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Contents. — Adventure  of  Colonel  James  Smith;  Dan- 
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Benham;  Alexander  McConnel;  Robert  and  Samuel  Mc- 
Afee; Bryant  and  Hogan,  McKinley;  David  Morgan;  Ad- 
am Poe;  Mrs.  Wood,  Davies,  Caffree,  and  McClure;  Cap- 
tain James  Ward;  Francis  Downing;  the  Widow  Scaggs; 
John  Merrill;  Ward;  Calvin,  and  Kenton;  May,  Johnston, 
Flinn,  and  Skyles;  Captain  William  Hubbell,  Incidents 
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CAPT.  PATERSON'S  ESCAPE  FItOM  TEE  CATTLE  OF  THE  BLUE  LICKS.— rSue 


SKETCHES 


OF 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE, 

CONTAINING  AN  ACCOUNT 

OF  THE 

MOST  INTERESTING  INCIDENTS 

CONNECTED  WITH  THE 

SETTLEMENT  OF  THE  WEST, 

FROM.  1755  TO  1794: 

WITH 

AN  APPENDIX* 

REVISED  AND  CORRECTED,  WITH  ENGRAVINGS. 


BY  JOHN  A.  M’CLUNG. 


CINCINNATI,  OHIO: 
PUBLISHED  BY  H.  S.  & J.  APPLEGATE  & GO. 


1851. 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1836, 
BY  J.  A.  JAMES  & CO., 

In  the  Clerk’s  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  Ohio. 


CONTENTS 


Pagi. 

CHAP.  I.  Adventures  of  Colonel  James  Smith,  - --  --  --  - 9 

II.  “ Daniel  Boone, - - - 40 

III.  « General  Simon  Kenton,  - --  --  --  - 80 

IV.  « General  Benjamin  Logan,  -------  109 

V.  « Colonel  William  Crawford, 119 

VI.  “ John  Slover, - 135 

VII.  « Captain  Robert  Benhiam, 148 

« “ Alexander  McConnel, 151 

“ “ Robert  and  Samuel  McAfee,  - - --  --  154 

“ « Bryant  and  Hogan, 155 

« “ McKinley, ------  1**8 

< « David  Morgan, ------  160 

« “ Adam  Poe, 163 

YIH.  « Mrs.  Woods,  170 

«*  « Davis,  Caffree  and  McClure,  ----*-171 

« “ Captain  James  Ward, 175 

« « Francis  Downing, 176 

« « The  Widow  Scaggs,  - --  --  --  --  - 179 

« Incidents  attending  the  desertion  of  a young  white 

man  from  a party  of  Indians,  - --  --  --  --  - 183 
« Adventures  of  John  Merril, ------  - 187 

IX.  « Ward,  Cp.lvin  and  Kenton, - 188 

a « Ward,  Baker  and  Kenton, 194 

X.  « May,  Johnston,  Flinn  and  Skyles,  - - - 195 

XI.  “ Captain  William  Hubbell, 231 

XII.  War  in  the  North  West, 239 

« Harmer’s  Expedition,  - --  --  --  --  --  --  --  240 
« Adventures  of  Jackson  Johonnet,  - --  --  --  --  243 

XIII.  Expedition  of  General  Arthur  St.  Clair, 250 

« Adventures  of  William  Kennan,  - --  --  --  --258 

XIV.  Expedition  of  Wayne, 264 

* Mission  of  Miller, 267 

« Battle  of  the  “ Fallen  Timber,”  - --  --  --  --  - 269 

" Adventure  of  the  two  young  Johnsons, 270 

w Appendix, 277 

A 2 V 


PREFACE. 


Is-  these  “ latter  days ,”  when  a rage  for  hook  making  pervades  all 
ages,  sexes,  and  conditions,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  offer  the  usual 
hackneyed  apology,  for  what  is  modestly  called  ‘ a trespass  upon  the 
patience  of  the  public!  ’ Should  the  book  prove  entertaining,  and  in 
some  degree  useful,  no  apology  will  be  necessary — if  otherwise,  none 
will  be  received.  Instead,  therefore,  of  spinning  a dozen  or  more 
sentences,  in  the  usual  deprecating  tone,  or  (which  is  frequently  done) 
throwing  down  the  gauntlet  at  the  whole  tribe  of  critics,  I shall  con- 
tent myself  with  a few  remarks,  upon  the  degree  of  credit  which  is  to 
be  attached  to  the  following  pages. 

•Several  years  ago,  when  the  author  was  younger  and  more  confi- 
dent, than  at  present,  he  was  seduced  into  the  perpetration  of  a book 
which  was  intended  for  a novel.  It  never  attracted  much  attention, 
and  has  long  since  been  forgotten,  except  by  the  immediate  acquain- 
tances of  the  author.  Upon  the  appearance  of  the  present  work,  to 
which  the  title  and  other  circumstances  unconnected  with  the  merit 
of  the  execution,  will  probably  give  a more  extensive  circulation,  the 
recollection  of  “ Camden/’  will  probably  be  revived  with  many 
readers  in  the  West,  and  give  rise  to  a suspicion  that  the  present 
work  is  as  truly  an  offspring  of  the  imagination  as  the  former.  A 
simple  denial  of  the  charge  would,  probably,  gain  but  little  credit. 
I wish  therefore,  to  refer  distinctly  to  the  sources  from  which  the 
materials  for  the  present  work  have  been  derived,  in  order  to  give 
every  one  who  chooses,  an  opportunity  of  satisfying  himself  as  to  its 
authenticity. 

For  the  correctness  with  which  the  adventures  of  Boone,  Smith, 
and  Johnston  are  derailed,  I refer  the  reader  to  the  printed  narratives 
of  each  of  those  gentlemen,  which  are  to  be  found  upon  the  shelves 
of  almost  every  bookseller  in  the  West.  In  the  life  of  Boone,  there 
are  many  particulars  relating  to  the  siege  of  Byrant’s  station  and  the 
battle  of  the  Blue  Licks,  which  are  not  to  be  found  in  Boone’s  nar- 
rative. For  some  of  these,  I am  indebted  to  Mr.  Marshall;  but  most 
of  them  have  been  taken  from  a series  of  “ Notes,”  which  appeared 

vii 


PREFACE. 


▼ilk 

several  years  ago  in  the  Kentucky  Gazette,  and  which  were  carefully 
taken  down  from  the  verbal  communications  of  individuals  still  living, 
who  were  actively  engaged  in  those  scenes. 

For  the  striking  incidents  attending  the  expedition  of  Crawford, 
I am  indebted  to  the  printed  narratives  of  Knight  and  Slover, 
which  were  published  immediately  after  their  return  to  Virginia, 
when  the  affair  was  fresh  in  the  recollection  of  hundreds,  and  any 
misstatement  would  instantly  have  been  corrected.  Kenton’s  ad- 
ventures are  taken  from  a manuscript  account  dictated  by  the  vener- 
able pioneer  himself,  and  now  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  John  D.  Taylor, 
of  Washington,  Ky.  from  whom  at  some  future  day,  we  may  expect 
a full  detail  of  his  whole  life,  of  which  I have  only  given  a rapid  and 
imperfect  sketch.  The  adventures  of  Johonnet,  are  taken  from  a 
printed  account  by  himself,  wThich  first  appeared  in  1791,  immediately 
after  the  defeat  of  St.  Clair,  and  those  of  Kennan,  from  his  own  ac- 
count, which  the  author,  in  common  with  many  others,  has  heard  re- 
peatedly from  his  own  lips.  For  the  rest,  I refer  the  reader  general- 
ly, to  Metcalf’s  collection,  Mr. “ Border  Wars,”  and  the 

“ Notes  on  Kentucky,”  already  mentioned. 

*A  small  portion,  and  comparatively  but  a small  portion,  of  the  mi- 
nor details,  have  been  gathered  from  personal  conversation  with  the 
individuals  concerned.  Had  I chosen  to  have  given  admission  to 
mere  rumors,  related  by  persons  who  had  received  them  from  others, 
I might  have  given  a host  of  anecdotes,  partaking  strongly  of  the 
marvellous,  and  some  of  them  really  worthy  of  being  inserted,  could 
I have  been  satisfied  of  their  truth  ! But  I have  chosen  to  confine 
myself  to  those  only  which  were  given  upon  unquestionable*  author- 
ity, and  can  conscientiously  affirm,  that  I have  admitted  nothing 
which  I myself,  at  the  time,  did  not  believe  to  be  true. 


SKETCHES 


OF 

WESTERN  ADVENTURE 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  English  settlements  in  North  America,  until  late 
m the  18th  century,  were  confined  to  the  country  lying 
east  of  the  Allegheny  mountains.  Even  the  most  adven- 
turous traders  from  Virginia  and  Pennsylvania,  rarely 
penetrated  beyond  the  head  waters  of  the  Ohio  river,  and 
the  spot  where  Pittsburgh  now  stands,  was,  for  a lon|r 
time,  an  extreme  frontier  point,  where  the  white  fur  t rea- 
ders and  the  western  Indians  were  accustomed  to  meet 
and  exchange  their  commodities.  All  beyond  was  an  un- 
explored wilderness,  which  was  known  only  as  occupying 
certain  degrees  of  latitude  and  longitude  upon  the  map. 
Shortly  before  the  old  French  war  of  1755,  this  spot  was 
occupied  by  the  French,  and  a fort  erected,  which,  in  honor 
of  their  commander,  was  called  Du  Quesne. 

The  possession  of  this  fortress  was  keenly  debated  du- 
ring the  earlier  years  of  the  war,  and  was  soon  rendered 
memorable  by  the  disastrous  expedition  of  Braddock  and 
Grant.  Omitting  a regular  detail  of  these  events,  which 
have  been  often  related,  we  shall  commence  our  desulto- 
ry history  with  a detail  of  the  adventures  of  Col.  James 
Smith,  who  subsequently  removed  to  Kentucky,  and  for 
many  years  was  a resident  of  Bourbon  county.  He  was 
the  first  anglo-American  who  penetrated  into  the  interior 
©f  the  Western  country;  at  least  the  first  who  has  given  us 
an  account  of  his  adventures;  and  in  a succession  of 
sketches,  like  the  present,  designed  to  commemorate  indi- 
vidual rather  than  national  exertions,  he  is  justly  entitled 
to  the  distinction  which  we  give  him.  If  we  mistake  not, 

9 


10 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


his  adventures  will  be  found  particularly  interesting,  as 
affording  more  ample  specimens  of  savage  manners  and 
character,  than  almost  any  other  account  now  in  existence. 

In  the  spring  of  the  year  1755,  James  Smith,  then  a 
youth  of  eighteen,  accompanied  a party  of  three  hundred 
men  from  the  frontiers  of  Pennsylvania,  who  advanced  in 
front  of  Braddock’s  army  for  the  purpose  of  opening  a road 
over  the  mountain.  When  within  a few  miles  of  the  Bed- 
ford springs,  he  was  sent  back  to  the  rear,  to  hasten  the 
progress  of  some  wagons  loaded  with  provisions  and  stores 
for  the  use  of  the  road  cutters.  Having  delivered  his  or- 
ders, he  was  returning,  in  company  with  another  young 
man,  when  they  were  suddenly  fired  upon  by  a party  ot 
three  Indians,  from  a cedar  thicket  which  skirted  the  road. 
Smith’s  companion  wras  killed  on  the  spot;  and,  although 
he  himself  was  unhurt,  yet  his  horse  was  so  much  fright- 
ened by  the  flash  and  report  of  the  guns,  as  to  become 
totally  unmanageable,  and  after  a few'  plunges,  threw  him 
with  violence  to  the  ground.  Before  he  could  recover 
his  feet,  the  Indians  sprung  upon  him,  and,  overpowering 
his  resistance,  secured  him  as  a prisoner. 

One  of  them  demanded,  in  broken  English,  whether 
“ more  w7hite  men  were  coming  up;”  and  upon  his  answer- 
ing in  the  negative,  he  was  seized  by  each  arm,  and  com- 
pelled to  run  with  great  rapidity  over  the  mountain  until 
night,  w7hen  the  small  party  encamped  and  cooked  their 
supper.  An  equal  share  of  their  scanty  stock  of  provi* 
sions  was  given  to  the  prisoner;  and  in  other  respects,  al- 
though strictly  guarded,  he  w7as  treated  with  great  kindness. 
On  the  evening  of  the  next  day,  after  a rapid  walk  of  fifty 
miles,  through  cedar  thickets,  and  over  very  rocky  ground, 
they  reached  the  w7estern  side  of  the  Laurel  mountain, 
and  beheld  at  a little  distance  the  smoke  of  an  Indian  en 
campment.  His  captors  now  fired  their  guns,  and  raised 
the  scalp  halloo!  This  is  a long  yell  for  every  scalp  that 
h is  been  taken,  followed  by  a rapid  succession  of  shrill, 
quick,  piercing  shrieks,  somewhat  resembling  laughter  in 
its  most  excited  t^nes.  They  were  answered  from  the 
Indian  camp  below,  by  a discharge  of  rifles  and  a long 
w hoop,  followed  by  shrill  cries  of  joy,  and  ail  thronged 


JAMES  SMITH. 


11 

out  to  meet  the  party.  Smith  expected  instant  death  at 
their  hands,  as  they  crowded  around  him;  but  to  his  sur- 
prise, no  one  offered  him  any  violence.  They  belonged 
to  another  tribe,  and  entertained  the  party  in  their  camp 
with  great  hospitality,  respecting  the  prisoner  as  the  pro- 
perty of  their  guests. 

On  the  following  morning  Smith’s  captors  continued 
their  march,  and  on  the  evening  of  the  next  day  arrived 
at  fort  Du  Quesne,  now  Pittsburgh.  When  within  half  a 
mile  of  the  fort,  they  again  raised  the  scalp  halloo,  and 
fired  their  guns  as  before.  Instantly  the  whole  garrison 
was  in  commotion.  The  cannon  were  fired,  the  drums 
were  beaten,  and  French  and  Indians  ran  out  in  great 
numbers  to  meet  the  party,  and  partake  of  their  triumph. 
Smith  was  again  surrounded  by  a multitude  of  savages, 
painted  in  various  colors,  and  shouting  with  delight;  but 
their  demeanor  was  by  no  means  as  pacific  as  that  of  the 
last  party  he  had  encountered.  They  rapidly  formed  in 
two  long  lines,  and  brandishing  their  hatchets,  ramrods, 
switches,  &c.  called  aloud  upon  him  to  run  the  gauntlet. 

Never  having  heard  of  this  Indian  ceremony  before,  he 
stood  amazed  for  some  time,  not  knowing  what  to  do;  but 
one  of  his  captors  explained  to  him,  that  he  was  to  run 
between  the  two  lines,  and  receive  a blow  from  each  Indian 
as  he  passed,  concluding  his  explanation  by  exhorting  him 
to  “ run  his  best,”  as  the  faster  he  run  the  sooner  the  af- 
fair would  be  over.  This  truth  was  very  plain ; and  young 
Smith  entered  upon  L s '•ace  with  great  spirit.  He  was 
switched  very  handsomely  along  the  lines,  for  about  three- 
fourths  of  the  distance,  the  stripes  only  acting  as  a spur 
to  greater  exertions,  and  he  had  almost  reached  the  oppo- 
site extremity  of  the  line,  when  a tall  chief  struck  him  a 
furious  blow  with  a club  upon  the  back  of  the  head,  and 
instantly  felled  him  to  the  ground.  Recovering  himself 
in  a moment,  he  sprung  to  his  feet  and  started  forward 
again,  when  a handful  of  sand  was  thrown  in  his  eyes, 
which,  in  addition  to  the  great  pain,  completely  blinded 
him.  He  still  attempted  to  grope  his  way  through;  but 
was  again  knocked  down  and  beaten  with  merciless  se- 
verity. He  soon  became  insensible  under  such  barba- 


12 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


rous  treatment,  and  recollected  nothing  more,  until  he 
found  himself  in  the  hospital  of  the  fort,  under  the  hands 
of  a French  surgeon,  beaten  to  a jelly,  and  unable  to 
move  a limb.  Here  he  was  quickly  visited  by  one  of  his 
captors,  the  same  who  had  given  him  such  good  advice, 
when  about  to  commence  his  race. 

He  now  inquired,  with  some  interest,  if  he  felt  “ very 
sore.”  Young  Smith  replied,  that  he  had  been  bruised  al- 
most to  death,  and  asked  what  he  had  done  to  merit  such 
barbarity.  The  Indian  replied  that  he  had  done  nothing, 
but  that  it  was  the  customary  greeting  of  the  Indians  to 
their  prisoners;  that  it  was  something  like  the  English 
“how  d’ye  do?”  and  that  now  all  ceremony  would  be  laid 
aside,  and  he  would  be  treated  with  kindness.  Smith  in- 
quired if  they  had  any  news»of  General  Braddock.  The 
Indian  replied  that  their  scouts  saw  him  every  day  from 
the  mountains;  that  he  was  advancing  in  close  columns 
through  the  woods ; (this  he  indicated  by  placing  a num- 
ber of  red  sticks  parallel  to  each  other,  and  pressed  closely 
together;)  and  that  the  Indians  would  be  able  to  shoot 
them  down  “like  pigeons.” 

Smith  rapidly  recovered,  and  was  soon  able  to  walk 
Bpon  the  battlements  of  the  fort,  with  the  aid  of  a stick. 
While  engaged  in  this  exercise,  on  the  morning  of  the 
9th  July,  he  observed  an  unusual  bustle  in  the  fort.  The 
Indians  stood  in  crowds  at  the  great  gate,  armed  and 
painted.  Many  barrels  of  powder,  ball,  flints,  &c.  were 
brought  out  to  them,  from  which  each  warrior  helped  him- 
self to  such  articles  as  he  required.  They  were  soon 
joined  by  a small  detachment  of  French  regulars,  when 
the  whole  party  marched  off  together.  He  had  a full 
view  of  them  as  they  passed,  and  was  confident  that  they 
could  not  exceed  four  hundred  men.  He  soon  learned 
that  it  was  detached  against  Braddock,  who  was  now  with- 
in a few  miles  of  the  fort;  but  from  their  great  inferiority 
in  numbers,  he  regarded  their  destruction  certain,  and 
looked  joyfully  to  the  arrival  of  Braddock  in  the  evening, 
aslthe  hour  which  was  to  deliver  him  from  the  power  of 
the  Indians.  In  the  afternoon,  however,  an  Indian  rui*- 
ner  arrived  with  far  different  intelligence.  The  battki 


JAMES  SMITH. 


13 


bad  not  yet  ended  when  he  left  the  field*  but  he  announ- 
ced that  the  English  had  been  surrounded*  and  were  shot 
down  in  heaps  by  an  invisible  enemy,' that  instead  of  fly- 
ing- at  once,  or  rushing  upon  their  concealed  fo®,  they 
appeared  completely  bewildered,  huddled  together  in  the 
center  of  the  ring,  and  before  sundown  there  would  not 
be  a man  of  them  alive. 

This  intelligence  fell  like  a thunderbolt  upon  Smith, 
who  now  saw  himself  irretrievably  in  the  power  of  the 
savages,  and  could  look  forward  to  nothing  but  torture  or 
endless  captivity.  He  waited  anxiously  for  further  intel- 
ligence, still  hoping  that  the  fortune  of  the  day  might 
change.  But  about  sunset,  he  heard  at  a distance  the 
well  known  scalp  halloo,  followed  by  wild,  quick,  joyful 
shrieks,  and  accompanied  by  long  continued  firing.  This 
too  surely  announced  the  fate  of  the  day.  About  dusk, 
the  party  returned  to  the  fort,  driving  before  them  twelve 
British  regulars,  stripped  naked  and  with  their  faces  paint- 
ed black!  an  evidence  that  the  unhappy  wretches  were 
devoted  to  death. 

Next  came  the  Indians  displaying  their  bloody  scalps, 
of  which  they  had  immense  numbers,  ahd  dressed  in  the 
scarlet  coats,  sashes,  and  military  hats  of  the  officers  and 
soldiers.  Behind  all  came  a train  of  baggage  horses, 
laden  with  piles  of  scalps,  canteens,  and  all  the  accoutre- 
ments of  British  soldiers.  The  savages  appeared  frantic 
with  joy,  and  when  Smith  beheld  them  entering  the  fort, 
dancing,  yelling,  brandishing  their  red  tomahawks,  and 
waving  their  scalps  in  the  air,  while  the  great  guns  of  the 
fort  replied  to  the  incessant  discharge  of  rifles  without, 
he  says,  that  it  looked  as  if  H — 11  had  given  a holiday, 
and  turned  loose  its  inhabitants  upon  the  upper  world. 

The  most  melancholy  spectacle  was  the  band  of  prison- 
ers. They  appeared  dejected  and  anxious.  Poor  fel- 
lows! They  had  but  a few  months  before  left  London, 
at  the  command  of  their  superiors,  and  we  may  easily  im- 
agine their  feelings,  at  the  strange  and  dreadful  spectacle 
around  them.  The  yells  of  delight  and  congratulation 
were  scarcely  over,  when  those  of  vengeance  began. 
The  devoted  prisoners — British  regulars— -were  led  out 

B 


14 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


from  the  fort  to  the  banks  of  the  Allegheny,  and  to  the 
eternal  disgrace  of  the  French  commandant,  were  there 
burnt  to  death,  one  after  another,  with  the  most  awful  tor- 
tures. 

Smith  stood  upon  the  battlements  and  witnessed  the 
shocking  spectacle.  The  prisoner  was  tied  to  a stake 
with  his  hands  raised  above  his  head,  stripped  naked,  and 
surrounded  by  Indians.  They  would  touch  him  with  red 
hot  irons,  and  stick  his  body  full  of  pine  splinters  and  set 
them  on  tire,  drowning  the  shrieks  of  the  victim  in  the 
yells  of  delight  with  which  they  danced  around  him. 
His  companions  in  the  mean  time  stood  in  a group  near 
the  stake,  and  had  a foretaste  of  what  was  in  reserve  for 
each  of  them.  As  fast  as  one  prisoner  died  under  his 
tortures,  another  tilled  his  place,  until  the  whole  perish- 
ed. All  this  took  place  so  near  the  fort,  that  every 
scream  of  the  victims  must  have  rung  in  the  ears  of  the 
French  commandant! 

Two  or  three  days  after  this  shocking  spectacle,  most 
of  the  Indian  tribes  dispersed  and  returned  to  their  homes, 
as  is  usual  with  them  after  a great  and  decisive  battle. 
Young  Smith  was  demanded  of  the  French  by  the  tribe  to 
whom  he  belonged,  and  was  immediately  surrendered  in- 
to their  hands. 

The  party  embarked  in  canoes,  and  ascended  the  Alle- 
gheny river,  as  far  as  a small  Indian  town  about  forty 
miles  above  fort  Du  Quesne.  There  they  abandoned  their 
canoes,  and  striking  into  the  woods,  traveled  in  a west- 
ern direction,  until  they  arrived  at  a considerable  Indian 
town,  in  what  is  now  the  state  of  Ohio.  This  village  was 
called  Tullihas,  and  was  situated  upon  the  western  branch 
of  the  Muskingum.  During  the  whole  of  this  period. 
Smith  suffered  much  anxiety,  from  the  uncertainty  of  his 
future  fate,  but  at  this  town  all  doubt  was  removed.  On 
the  morning  of  his  arrival,  the  principal  members  of  the 
tribe  gathered  around  him^  and  one  old  man  with  deep 
gravity,  began  to  pluck  out  his  hair  by  the  roots,  while 
the  others  looked  on  in  silence,  smoking  their  pipes  with 
great  deliberation. 

Smith  did  not  understand  the  design  of  this  singular 


JAMES  SMITH. 


n 


ceremony,  "but  submitted  very  patiently  to  the  man’s  la- 
bors, who  performed  the  operation  of “ picking”  him  with 
great  dexterity,  dipping  his  fingers  in  ashes  occasionally, 
in  order  to  take  a better  hold.  In  a very  few  moments 
Smith’s  head  was  bald,  with  the  exception  of  a single  long 
tuft  upon  the  center  of  his  crown,  called  the  “scalp  lock.” 
This  was  carefully  plaited  in  such  a manner  as  to  stand 
upright,  and  was  ornamented  with  several  silver  brooches- 
His  ears  and  nose  were  then  bored  with  equal  gravity, 
and  ornamented  with  ear-rings  and  nose  jewels.  He  was 
then  ordered  to  strip;  which  being  done,  his  naked  body 
was  painted  in  various  fantastic  colors,  and  a breech-cloth 
fastened  round  his  loins.  A belt  of  wampum  was  then 
placed  around  his  neck,  and  silver  bands  around  his  right 
arm. 

To  all  this  Smith  submitted  with  much  anxiety,  being 
totally  ignorant  of  their  customs,  and  dreading  lest,  like 
the  British  prisoners,  he  had  been  stripped  and  painted 
for  the  stake.  Ilis  alarm  was  increased,  when  an  old 
chief  arose,  took  him  by  the  arm,  and  leading  him  out  in- 
to the  open  air,  gave  three  shrill  whoops,  and  was  instant- 
ly surrounded  by  every  inhabitant  of  the  village,  warriors, 
women,  and  children.  The  chief  then  addressed  the 
crowd  in  a long  speech,  still  holding  Smith  by  the  hand. 
When  he  had  ceased  speaking,  he  led  Smith  forward,  and 
delivered  him  into  the  hands  of  three  young  Indian  girls, 
who,  grappling  him  without  ceremony,  towed  him  off  to  the 
river  which  ran  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  dragged  him  in  the 
water  up  to  his  breast,  and  ail  three  suddenly  clapping 
their  hands  upon  his  head,  attempted  to  put  him  under. 
Utterly  desperate  at  the  idea  of  being  drowned  by  these 
young  ladies,  Smith  made  a manful  resistance ; the  squaws 
persevered;  and  a prodigious  splashing  of  the  water  took 
place,  amidst  loud  peals  of  laughter  from  the  shore. 

At  length,  one  of  the  squaws  became  alarmed  at  tha 
furious  struggles  of  the  young  whiteman,  and  cried  out 
earnestly  several  times,  “no  hurt  you!  no  hurt  you!” 
Upon  this  agreeable  intelligence,  Smith’s  resistance  ceas- 
ed, and  these  gentle  creatures  plunged  him  under  the 
water,  and  scrubbed  him  from  head  to  foot  with  equal  zesl 


16 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


and  perseverance.  As  soon  as  they  were  satisfied,  they 
led  him  ashore  and  presented  him  to  the  chief,  shivering 
wi.th  cold,  and  dripping  with  water.  The  Indians  then 
dressed  him  in  a ruffled  shirt,  leggins,  and  moccasins,  va- 
riously ornamented,  seated  him  upon  a bearskin,  and  gave 
him  a pipe,  tomahawk,  tobacco,  pouch,  flint,  and  steek 
The  chiefs  then  took  their  seats  by  his  side,  and  smoked 
for  several  minutes  in  deep  silence,  when  the  eldest  deliv- 
ered a speech,  through  an  interpreter,  in  the  following 
words : “ My  son,  you  are  now  one  of  us.  Hereafter,  you 
have  nothing  to  fear.  By  an  ancient  custom,  you  have 
veen  adopted  in  the  room  of  a brave  man,  who  has  fallen; 
and  every  drop  of  white  blood  has  been  washed  from  your 
veins.  We  are  now  your  brothers,  and  are  bound  by 
our  law  to  love  you,  to  defend  you,  and  to  avenge  your 
injuries,  as  much  as  if  you  were  born  in  our  tribe.” 

He  was  then  introduced  to  the  members  of  the  family 
into  which  he  had  been  adopted,  and  was  received  by  the 
whole  of  them  with  great  demonstrations  of  regard.  In 
the  evening,  he  received  an  invitation  to  a great  feasts 
and  was  there  presented  with  a wooden  bowl  and  spoon, 
and  directed  to  fill  the  former  from  a huge  kettle  of  boiled 
corn,  and  hashed  venison.  The  evening  concluded  with 
a war  dance,  and  on  the  next  morning,  the  warriors  of 
the  tribe  assembled,  and  leaving  one  or  two  hunters,  to 
provide  for  their  families  in  their  absence,  the  rest  march- 
ed off  for  the  frontiers  of  Virginia.  In  leaving  the  vil- 
lage, the  warriors  observed  the  most  profound  silence, 
with  the  exception  of  their  leader,  who  sung  the  travel- 
ing song,  as  it  is  called,  and  when  some  distance  off,  they 
discharged  their  rifles  slowly,  and  in  regular  succession, 
beginning  in  front,  and  ending  with  the  rear.  As  soon 
as  the  warrior^  had  left  them,  Smith  was  invited  to  a 
dance,  in  whicL  the  Indian  boys  and  young  unmarried 
squaws  assembled,  and  entertained  themselves  for  several 
hours  together.  They  formed  in  two  lines  facing  each 
other,  at  the  distance  of  about  twenty  feet.  One  of  the 
young  men  held  a gourd  in  his  hand,  filled  with  pebbles, 
or  beads,  which  he  rattled  in  such  a manner  as  to  produce 
music,  and  all  the  dancers  singing  in  concert  with  their 


JAMES  SMITH. 


17 


leader,  moved  forward  in  a line  until  the  parties  met;  then 
retired,  and  repeated  the  same  exercise  for  hours,  without 
file  least  variation. 

Young  Smith  was  merely  a spectator  in  this  scene, 
and  his  chief  entertainment  arose  from  observing  the 
occasional  symptoms  of  gallantry  and  coquetry  which 
diversified  the  monotony  of  the  dance.  Heads  were  often 
bent  close  together  as  the  two  lines  met,  and  soft  whispers, 
Ogling  glances,  and  an  occasional  gentle  tap  on  the  cheek, 
convinced  Smith,  that  Indians  are  not  so  insensible  to 
the  charms  of  their  squaws  as  has  been  represented.  An 
Indian  courtship  is  somewhat  different  from  ours.  With 
them,  all  the  coyness,  reserve,  and  pretty  delays  are  con- 
fined to  the  gentlemen.  The  young  squaws  are  bold, 
forward,  and  by  no  means  delicate  in  urging  their  passion; 
and  a particularly  handsome  or  promising  young  hunter, 
is  often  reduced  to  desperate  extremities,  to  escape  the 
toils  of  these  female  Lotharios!  Smith  was  uniformly 
treated  with  the  greatest  kindness,  and  was  for  some  time 
particularly  distressed  by  the  pressing  invitations  to  eat, 
which  he  . received  from  all  quarters. 

With  the  Indians,  it  is  uniformly  the  custom  to  invite 
every  visitor  to  eat,  as  soon  as  he  enters  the  wigwam;  and 
if  he  refuses,  they  are  much  offended,  regarding  it  as  an 
evidence  of  hostility  to  them,  and  contempt  for  their  house 
keeping.  Smith,  ignorant  of  this  circumstance,  was 
sometimes  pressed  to  eat  twenty  times  in  a day,  and  ob- 
serving their  dark  and  suspicious  glances  when  he  declin- 
ed their  hospitality,  he  endeavored  at  length  to  satisfy 
them  at  the  risk  of  stuffing  himself  to  death.  Making  it 
a point  to  eat  with  all  who  invited  him,  he  soon  found 
himself  in  great  favor,  and  in  the  course  of  a week  after 
his  adoption,  an  old  chief  honored  him  with  an  invitation 
to  hunt  with  him.  Smith  readily  consented.  At  the  dis- 
tance of  a few  miles  from  the  village,  they  discovered  a 
number  of  buffalo  tracks.  The  old  Indian  regarded  them 
attentively,  and  followed  them  with  great  caution,  stop- 
ping frequently  to  listen,  and  rolling  his  eyes  keenly  in 
every  direction.  Smith,  surprised  at  this  singular  con- 
duct asked  him  why  he  did  not  push  on  more  ra  idly,  and 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


ts 

endeavor  to  get  a shot.  “Hush!”  said  the  Indian,  shak 
ing  his  head,  “ may  be  buffalo — may  be  Catawba!” 

Having  at  length  satisfied  himself  that  they  were  really 
buffalo,  he  pushed  on  more  rapidly,  and  on  the  way,  as 
signed  his  reasons  for  his  hesitation.  He  said,  that  the 
Catawbas  had  long  been  at  war  with  his  tribe,  and  were 
the  most  cunning  and  wicked  nation  in  the  world.  That 
a few  years  ago,  they  had  secretly  approached  his  camp 
in  the  night,  and  sent  out  a few*  of  their  spies,  mounted 
upon  buffalo  hoofs,  who  walked  round  their  camp,  and  then 
returned  to  the  main  body.  That.*  in  the  morning,  he 
and  his  warriors,  perceiving  their  tracks,  supposed  a herd 
of  buffalo  to  be  ahead  of  them,  and  moved  on  rapidly  in 
pursuit.  That,  they  soon  fell  into  the  ambuscade,  were 
fired  on  by  the  Catawbas,  and  many  of  them  killed.  The 
Catawbas,  however,  quickly  gave  way,  and  were  pursued 
by  his  young  men  with  great  eagerness.  But  they  had 
taken  the  precaution  to  stick  a number  of  slender  reeds 
in  the  grass,  sharpened  like  a pen,  and  dipped  in  rattle 
snake’s  poison,  so  that  as  his  young  men  pursued  them 
eagerly,  most  of  them  were  artificially  snake  bitten,  and 
lamed.  That  the  Catawbas  then  turned  upon  them,  over 
powered  them,  and  took  the  scalps  of  all  who  had  been 
lamed  by  the  reeds.  The  old  man  concluded  by  shaking 
his  head,  and  declaring  that  “ Catawba  was  a very  bad  In 
dian;  a perfect  devil  for  mischief.” 

Smith,  however,  was  so  unfortunate  a few  days  after 
wards,  as  to  fall  into  discredit  with  these  simple  people. 
He  had  been  directed  to  go  out  and  kill  some  venison  for  the 
squaws  and  children,  who  had  suffered  for  several  days, 
during  the  absence  of  the  greater  part  of  the  warriors. 
As  this  was  the  first  time  that  he  had  been  intrusted  with 
so  weighty  a commission  alone,  he  determined  to  signalize 
his  hunt  by  an  unusual  display  of  skill  and  enterprise. 
He,  therefore,  struck  boldly  into  the  vroods,  and  at  a few 
miles  distance, falling  upon  afresh  buffalo  trail,  he  pushed 
on  for  several  miles  with  great  eagerness.  Despairing, 
however,  of  overtaking  them,  as  the  evening  came  on, 
he  began  to  retrace  his  steps,  and  as  he  had  taken  a con- 
siderable circuit,  he  determined  to  cut  across  the  hills,  and 


JAMES  SMITH. 


reach  the  village  by  a shorter  way-  He  soon  became  in- 
extricably involved  in  the  mazes  of  the  forest,  and  at 
dark,  found  himself  completely  bewildered.  He  fired  his 
gun  repeatedly,  in  hopes  of  being  heard,  but  his  signal 
was  unanswered,  and  he  wandered  through  the  woods  the 
whole  night,  totally  unable  to  find  his  way  home. 

Early  in  the  morning,,  the  Indians,  probably  suspecting 
him  for  desertion,  started  out  in  pursuit  of  him,  but  ob- 
serving the  zigzag  manner  in  which  the  young  woodsman 
had  marched,  they  soon  became  satisfied  of  the  truth,  and 
their  anger  was  changed  to  laughter  and  contempt. 
Smith’s  rifle  was  taken  from  him,  and  a bow  and  arrow 
(the  weapons  of  a boy)  were  placed  in  his  hands;  and 
although  he  was  treated  with  undiminished  kindness  by 
all,  yet  it  was  evident,  that  it  was  mingled  with  compas- 
sion and  contempt,  for  his  ignorance  of  the  woods.  He 
was  now  placed  under  the  particular  care  of  Tontileaugo, 
his  adopted  brother,  and  a renowned  hunter  and  warrior. 
With  the  aid  of  his  directions,  he  soon  learned  all  the 
mysteries  of  hunting.  He  trapped  beaver,  killed  deer, 
bear,  and  buffalo  with  great  readiness,  and  in  the  course 
of  the  winter,  rose  considerably  in  .reputation.  The  war- 
riors were  still  absent,  and  the  women  and  children  de- 
pended on  them  entirely  for  subsistence. 

Sometimes  they  were  three  days  without  food ; particu- 
larly, when  the  snow  became  hard,  and  the  noise  which 
they  made  in  walking  on  the  crust  frightened  the  deer,  so 
that  they  could  not  come  within  gunshot.  Their  only  re- 
source then,  was  to  hunt  bear  trees;  that  is,  for  large 
hollow  trees  in  which  bears  lay  concealed  during  the  win- 
ter. The  hole  is  generally  from  thirty  to  fifty  feet  from 
the  ground,  and  they  are  often  compelled  to  climb  up  and 
apply  fire,  in  order  to  drive  Bruin  out,  who  obstinately 
maintains  his  ground  until  nearly  stifled  with  smoke,  and 
then  sneezing  and  snuffling,  and  growling,  he  shows  him- 
self at  the  mouth  of  his  hole,  for  a little  fresh  air.  The 
hunter  stations  himself  below,  and  fires  upon  him  as  soon 
as  he  appears.  Towards  spring,  the  warriors  generally 
return,  and  game  is  then  killed  in  abundance. 

We  shall  here  pause  in  our  narrative,  to  mention  90m® 


20 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


traits  of  Indian  character  and  manners,  which,  perhaps 
will  be  interesting  to  many  of  our  readers,  who  have  not 
had  opportunities  of  informing  themselves  on  the  subject. 
The  lives  of  the  men  are  passed  in  alternate  action  of  the 
most  violent  kind,  and  indolence  the  most  excessive.  Noth- 
ing but  the  pressing  call  of  hunger  will  rouse  them  to 
much  exertion. 

In  the  months  of  August  and  September,  when  roasting- 
ears  are  abundant,  they  abandon  themselves  to  laziness, 
dancing  and  gaming,  and  can  rarely  be  roused  even  to 
hunt,  so  long  as  their  corn-fields  will  furnish  them  food. 
During  these  months  they  are  generally  seen  lying  down  in 
idle  contemplation,  dancing  with  their  squaws,  playing  at 
foot-ball,  or  engaged  in  a game  resembling  dice,  of  which 
they  are  immoderately  fond.  War  and  hunting  are  their 
only  serious  occupations,  and  all  the  drudgery  of  life  de- 
volves upon  the  squaws.  Smith  gave  high  offence  to  the 
warriors  by  taking  a hoe  into  his  hands,  and  working  with 
the  squaws  for  half  an  hour,  at  a time  when  they  were 
engaged  in  planting  corn.  They  reprimanded  him  with 
some  severity  for  his  industry,  observing,  that  it  -was  de- 
grading to  a warrior  to  be  engaged  in  labor  like  a squaw; 
and  for  the  future  he  must  learn  to  demean  himself  more 
loftily,  always  remembering  that  he  was  a member  oi  a 
warlike  tribe,  and  a noble  family. 

They  are  remarkably  hospitable,  always  offering  to  a 
stranger  the  best  that  they  have.  If  a warrior,  upon  en- 
tering a strange  wigwam,  is  not  immediately  invited  to 
eat,  he  considers  himself  deeply  affronted,  although  he 
may  have  just  risen  from  a meal  at  home.  It  is  not  enough 
on  these  occasions  that  ordinary  food,  such  as  venison  or 
hommony,  is  offered.  It  is  thought  rude  and  churlish,  not 
to  set  before  their  guest  their  greatest  delicacies,  such  as 
sugar,  bear’s  oil,  honey,  and  if  they  have  it,  rum.  If  there 
is  no  food  of  any  kind  in  the  house,  which  is  often  the 
case,  the  fact  is  instantly  mentioned,  and  is  at  once  ac- 
cepted as  a sufficient  apology.  Smith  was  so  unfortunate 
as  to  incur  some  reproach  upon  this  subject  also.  While 
he  and  his  adopted  brother,  Tontileaugo,  were  encamped 
vm  the  woodSf  hunting,  there  came  a hunter  of  the  Wyan- 


JAMfcS  SMITH. 


24 

dott  tribe,  who  entered  their  camp,  faint  and  hungry,  hay- 
ing had  no  success  in  hunting,  and  consequently,  having 
fasted  for  several  days. 

Tontileaugo  was  absent  at  the  time,  but  Smith  received 
the  visitor  with  great  hospitality,  (as  he  thought,)  and  gave 
him  an  abundant  meal  of  hommony  and  venison.  Shortly 
after  the  Wyandott’s  departure,  his  brother,  Tontileaugo, 
returned,  and  Smith  informed  him  of  the  visit  of  the  stran- 
ger, and  of  his  hospitable  reception.  Tontileaugo  listened 
with  gravity,  and  replied  : “ And  I suppose,  of  course,  you 
brought  up  some  of  the  sugar  and  bear’s  oil,  which  was 
left  below  in  the  canoe?”  “No,”  replied  Smith,  “I  never 
thought  of  it;  it  was  at  too  great  a distance.”  “Well, 
brother,”  replied  Tontileaugo,  “you  have  behaved  just 
like  a Dutchman  ! I can  excuse  it  in  you  for  this  time,  as 
you  are  young,  and  have  been  brought  up  among  the  white 
people  ; but  you  must  learn  to  behave  like  a warrior,  and 
never  be  caught  in  such  little  actions  ! Great  actions* 
alone,  can  ever  make  a great  man  !” 

Their  power  of  sustaining  long  continued  fatigue  is  as 
extraordinary.  Even  their  squaws  will  travel  as  fast  as 
an  ordinary  horse,  and  pack  an  incredible  quantity  of 
baggage  upon  their  backs.  In  the  spring  of  1758,  a great 
quantity  of  game  had  been  killed,  at  a considerable  dis- 
tance from  the  village  ; and  all  the  inhabitants,  including 
squaws  and  boys,  turned  out  to  bring  it  home.  Smith  was 
loaded  with  a large  piece  of  buffalo,  which,  after  packing 
two  or  three  miles,  he  found  too  heavy  for  him,  and  was 
compelled  to  throw  it  down.  One  of  the  squaws  laughed 
heartily,  and  coming  up,  relieved  him  of  a large  part  of 
it,  adding  it  to  her  own  pack,  which  before,  was  equal  to 
Smith’s.  This,  he  says,  stimulated  him  to  greater  exer- 
tion than  the  severest  punishment  would  have  done. 

Their  warriors,  for  a short  distance,  are  not  swifter  than 
the  whites,  but  are  capable  of  sustaining  the  exercise  for 
an  incredible  length  of  time.  An  Indian  warrior  can  run 
for  twelve  or  fourteen  hours  without  refreshment,  and 
after  a hasty  meal,  and  very  brief  repose,  appear  com- 

Sdetely  refreshed,  and  ready  for  a second  course.  Smith 
bund  it  more  difficult  to  compete  with  them  in  this  re- 


22 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


spent,  than  in  any  other.  For  although  he  ran  with  great 
swiftness  for  a few  miles,  he  could  not  continue  such 
violent  exertion  for  a whole  day.  While  he  and  his  brother 
Tontiieaugo,  were  encamped  at  a distance  from  the  others, 
they  were  much  distressed  from  having  to  pack  their  meal 
from  such  a distance,  and  as  three  horses  were  constantly 
grazing  near  them,  (for  there  was  grass  under  the  snow,) 
Tontiieaugo  proposed  that  they  should  run  them  down, 
and  catch  them,  it  having  been  found  impossible  to  take 
them  in  any  other  way. 

Smith,  having  but  little  relish  for  the  undertakings 
urged  the  impossibility  of  success.  But  Tontiieaugo  re- 
plied, that  he  had  frequently  run  down  bear,  deer,  elk,  and 
buffalo,  and  believed,  that  in  the  course  of  a day  and 
night,  he  could  run  down  any  four-footed  animal,  except 
the  wolf.  Smith  observed,  that,  although  deer  were 
swifter  than  horses  for  a short  distance,  yet,  that  a horse 
could  run  much,  longer  than  either  the  elk  or  buffalo,  and 
that  he  was  confident  that  they  would  tire  themselves  to 
no  purpose.  The  other  insisted  upon  making  the  expe- 
riment, at  any  rate  ; and  at  daylight,  on  a cold  day  in 
February,  and  on  a hard  Tsnow  several  inches  deep,  the 
race  began.  The  two  hunters  stripped  themselves  to 
their  moccasons,  and  started  at  full  speed.  The  horses 
were  in  high  order,  and  very  wild,  but  contented  them- 
selves with  running  in  a circle  of  six  or  seven  miles  cir 
cumference,  and  would  not  entirely  abandon  their  usual 
grazing  ground. 

At  ten  o’clock,  Smith  had  dropped  considerably  astern, 
and  before  eleven,  Tontiieaugo  and  the  horses  were  out 
of  sight ; the  Indian  keeping  close  at  their  heels,  and  ah 
lowing  them  no  time  for  rest.  Smith,  naked  as  he  was, 
and  glowing  with  exercise,  threw  himself  .upon  the  hard 
snow  ; and  having  cooled  himself  in  this  manner,  he  re- 
mained stationary  until  three  o’clock  in  the  evening,  when 
the  horses  again  came  in  view,  their  flanks  smoking  like 
a seething  kettle,  and  Tontiieaugo  close  behind  them, 
running  with  undiminished  speed.  Smith  being  now  per- 
fectly fresh,  struck  in  ahead  of  Tontiieaugo,  and  compelled 
the  horses  to  quicken  their  speed,  while  his  Indian  brother 


JAMES  SMITH. 


23 


from  behind,  encouraged  him  to  do  his  utmost,  after  shout, 
ing  “ chako  \ chokoa-nough  !”  (pull  away!  pull  away, 
my  boy  ! ) 

Had  Tontileaugo  thought  of  resting,  and  committed  the 
chase  to  Smith  alone,  for  some  hours,  and  then  in  his  turn 
relieved  him,  they  might  have  succeeded;,  but  neglecting 
this  plan,  they  both  continued  the  chase  until  dark,  when, 
perceiving  that  the  horses  ran  still  with  great  vigor,  they 
despaired  of  success,  and  returned  to  the  camp,  having 
tasted  nothing  since  morning,  and  one  of  them  at  least, 
having  run  nearly  one  hundred  miles.  Tontileaugo  was 
somewhat  crest-fallen  at  the  result  of  the  race,  and  grum- 
bled not  a little  at  their  long  wind ; but  Smith  assured  him 
that  they  had  attempted  an  impossibility,  and  he  became 
reconciled  to  their  defeat. 

Their  discipline,  with  regard  to  their  children,  is  not 
remarkably  strict.  Whipping  is  rare  with  them,  and  is 
considered  the  most  disgraceful  of  all  punishments. 
Ducking  in  cold  water,  is  the  ordinary  punishment  of  mis- 
behavior; and  as  might  be  expected,  their  children  are 
more  obedient  in  winter  than  in  summer.  Smith,  during 
his  first  winter’s  residence  among  them,  was  an  eye  wit- 
ness to  a circumstance,  which  we  shall  relate  as  a lively 
example  of  Indian  manners.  His  brother,  Tontileaugo, 
was  married  to  a Wyandott  squaw,  who  had  had  several 
children  by  a former  husband.  One  of  these  children  of- 
fended his  step-father  in  some  way,  who,  in  requital,  gave 
him  the  “strappado,”  with  a whip  made  of  buffalo  hide. 

The  discipline  was  quite  moderate,  but  the  lad  shout- 
ed very  loudly,  and  soon  brought  out  his  Wyandott  mother. 
She  instantly  took  her  child^s  part  with  great  animation. 
It  was  in  vain  that  the  husband  explained  the  offence,  and 
urged  the  moderation  with  which  he  had  inflicted  the  pun- 
ishment. All  would  not  do.  “The  child,  she  said,  was 
no  slave,  to  be  beaten  and  scourged  with  a whip.  His 
father  had  been  a warrior,  and  a Wyandott,  and  his  child 
was  entitled  to  honorable  usage.  If  he  had  offended  his 
step-father,  there  was  cold  water  enough  to  be  had;  let 
him  be  ducked  until  he  would  be  brought  to  reason,  and 
she  would  not  utter  a word  of  complaint-  but  a ‘buffalo 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


t ug’  was  no  weapon  with  which  the  son  of  a warrior  ought 
to  be  struck:  his  father’s  spirit  was  frowning  in  the  skies 
at  the  degradation  of  his  child.” 

Tontileaugo  listened  with  great  calmness  to  this  indig- 
nant remonstrance;  and  having  lit  his  pipe,  strolled  off,  in 
order  to  give  his  squaw  an  opportunity  of  becoming  cool. 
The  offence  however  had  been  of  too  serious  a nature, 
and  his  squaw,  shortly  after  his  departure,  caught  a horse, 
and  taking  her  children  with  her,  rode  off  to  the  Wyandott 
village,  about  forty  miles  distant.  In  the  afternoon,  Ton- 
tileaugo returned  to  his  wigwam,  and  found  no  one  there 
but  Smith,  an  old  man,  and  a boy.  He  appeared  much 
troubled  at  his  squaw’s  refractory  conduct,  uttered  some 
deep  interjections;  but  finally  did  as  most  husbands  are 
compelled  to  do — followed  her  to  make  his  peace. 

They  are  remarkably  superstitious,  and  hold  their 
u conjurers”  in  great  veneration.  These  dignitaries  are 
generally  old  and  decrepid.  On  the  borders  of  Lake 
Erie,  one  evening  a squaw  came  running  into  camp, 
where  Smith,  Tontileaugo,  and  a few  others  were  repos- 
ing, after  a long  day’s  journey,  and  alarmed  them  with 
the  information,  that  two  strange  Indians,  armed  with  ri- 
fles, were  standing  upon  the  opposite  shore  of  a small 
creek,  and  appeared  to  be  reconnoitering  the  camp.  It 
was  supposed  they  were  Johnston  Mohawks,  and  that  they 
would  shortly  be  attacked.  Instantly  the  women  and 
children  were  sent  into  the  woods,  and  the  warriors  retir- 
ed from  the  light  of  the  fires,  taking  their  stations  silently 
in  the  dark,  and  awaiting  the  enemy’s  approach. 

Manetohcoa,  their  old  conjurer,  alone  remained  by  the 
fire,  regardless  of  the  danger,  and  busily  employed  in  his. 
necromantic  art.  To  assist  him  in  his  labors,  he  had  dy- 
ed feathers,  the  shoulder  blade  of  a wildcat,  and  a large 
quantity  of  leaf  tobacco.  Thus  accoutered,  he  conjured 
away,  with  great  industry,  in  the  light  of  the  fire,  and  ex- 
posed to  the  most  imminent  danger,  in  case  of  an  attack,  as 
he  was  very  lame,  totally  deaf,  and  miserably  rheumatic. 
After  a few  minutes  anxious  expectation,  old  Manetohcoa 
called  aloud  upon  his  friends  to  return  to  the  fire,  assuring 
them  that  there  was  no  danger.  They  instantly  obeyed, 


JAMES  SMITH. 


$5 

with  the  utmost  confidence,  and  their  squaws  and  chil- 
dren were  recalled,  as  if  no  further  danger  was  to  be 
apprehended.  Upon  coming  up,  they  found  old  Mane- 
tohcoa  enveloped  in  tobacco  smoke,  and  holding  the  bone 
of  the  wildcat  in  his  hand,  upon  which  his  eyes  were  fix- 
ed with  great  earnestness. 

He  told  them,  after  having  burnt  his  feathers,  fumiga 
ted  himself  with  the  tobacco,  heated  his  blade  bone,  and 
pronounced  his  charm,  that  he  expected  to  see  a multitude 
of  Mohawks  arise  upon  the  surface  of  the  bone;  but  to 
his  surprise,  he  saw  only  the  figures  of  two  wolves!  He 
assured  them  that  the  woman  had  mistaken  the  wolves  fbr 
Mohawks;  and  that  no  enemy  was  near  them.  The  In- 
dians instantly  composed  themselves  to  rest,  relying  con- 
fidently upon  the  truth  of  the  old  man’s  assertions.  In 
the  morning,  to  Smith’s  astonishment,  the  tracks  of  two 
wolves  were  seen  at  the  spot,  where  the  squaw’s  account 
had  placed  the  Mohawks.  The  Indians  expressed  no 
surprise  at  this  extraordinary  confirmation  of  the  old 
man’s  skill  in  divination ; but  Smith’s  infidelity  was  pow- 
erfully shaken!  Admitting  the  truth  of  the  facts,  (and 
from  Colonel  Smith’s  high  reputation  for  piety  and  integ- 
rity, we  presume  they  cannot  be  questioned,)  it  must  be 
acknowledged,  either  an  extraordinary  instance  of  saga- 
city, or  else  we  must  class  it  among  those  numerous  fortu- 
nate circumstances,  which  occasionally  have  staggered 
the  faith  of  much  more  learned  men  than  Colonel  Smith. 
Johnson’s  superstition  is  well  known;  and  Smith’s  doubts 
may  at  least  be  pardoned. 

Their  military  principles  are  few  and  simple,  but  re- 
markable for  sagacity,  and  singularly  adapted  to  the 
character  of  the  warfare  in  which  they  are  generally  en- 
gaged. Caution,  perhaps,  rather  than  boldness,  is  the 
leading  feature  of  their  system.  To  destroy  their  ene- 
my, at  the  least  possible  risk  to  themselves,  is  their  great 
object.  They  are  by  no  means,  as  has  been  sometimes 
supposed,  destitute  of  discipline.  Their  manoeuvres  are 
few,  but  in  performing  them,  they  are  peculiarly  alert, 
ready,  and  intelligent  In  forming  a line,  in  protecting 
their  flanks,  by  bodies  arranged  “ en  potence,”  or  in  form- 


36 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


ing  a large  hollow  square,  for  the  purpose  of  making  head 
against  a superior  force,  they  are  inferior  to  no  troops  in 
the  world.  Each  movement  is  indicated  by  a loud  whoop, 
of  peculiar  intonation,  from  their  leader,  and  is  irregular 
ly,  but  rapidly  obeyed.  The  result  is  order;  although 
during  the  progress  of  the  movement,  the  utmost  apparent 
confusion  prevails. 

Nothing  astonished  them  more,  than  the  pertinacity 
with  which  Braddock  adhered  to  European  tactics,  in  the 
celebrated  battle  on  the  banks  of  the  Monongahela.  They 
often  assured  Smith  that  the  long  knives  were  fools : that 
they  could  neither  fight  nor  runaway,  but  drew  themselves 
up  in  close  order,  and  stood  still,  as  if  to  give  their  ene- 
mies the  best  possible  opportunity  of  shooting  them  down 
at  their  leisure.  Grant’s  masquerade  before  the  w alls  of 
fort  Du  Quesne,  also  gave  them  much  perplexity.  A 
venerable  Caughnewaughga  chief,  who  had,  in  his  youth, 
been  a renowned  warrior  and  counsellor,  and  who  excell- 
ed all  his  cotemporaries  in  sagacity  and  benevolence, 
frequently  told  Smith,  that  Grant’s  conduct  was  to  him 
totally  inexplicable* 

This  general  formed  the  advance  of  General  Forbes  in 
1777.  He  marched  with  great  secrecy  and  celerity  through 
the  woods,  and  appeared  upon  the  hill  above  Du  Quesne 
in  the  night.  There  he  encamped,  and  by  way  of  brava- 
do, caused  the  drums  to  beat,  and  the  bagpipes  to  play,  as 
if  to  inform  the  enemy  of  his  arrival.  At  daylight,  he 
was  surrounded  by  Indians,  who  creeping  up,  under  cover 
of  bushes,  gullies,  &,c.,  nearly  annihilated  his  army  with- 
out any  sensible  loss  to  themselves.  The  old  chief 
observed,  “ that  as  the  great  art  of  wrar  consisted  in  am- 
bushing and  surprising  your  enemy,  and  preventing 
yourself  from  being  surprised,  that  Grant  had  acted  like 
a skilful  warrior  in  coming  secretly  upon  them;  but  that 
his  subsequent  conduct  in  giving  the  alarm  to  his  enemy, 
instead  of  falling  upon  him  with  the  bayonet,  was  very 
extraordinary;  that  he  could  only  account  for  it,  by  sup- 
posing that  Grant,  like  too  many  other  warriors,  was  fond 

rum,  and  had  become  drunk  about  daylight.” 

They  have  the  most  reign  contempt  for  all  book 


JAMES  SMITH. 


27 

learning!  Smith  was  occasionally  in  the  habit  of  read- 
ing a few  elementary  English  books,  which  he  had  procu  red 
from  traders,  and  lost  credit  among  them  by  his  fondness 
for  study. 

Nothing,  with  them,  can  atone  for  a practical  ignorance 
of  the  woods.  We  have  seen,  that,  for  losing  himself, 
Smith  was  degraded  from  the  rank  of  a warrior,  and  re- 
duced to  that  of  a boy.  Two  years  afterwards,  he 
regained  his  rank,  and  was  presented  with  a ride,  as  a 
reward  for  an  exhibition  of  hardihood  and  presence  of 
mind.  In  company  with  the  old  chief,  to  whom  we  have 
just  referred,  and  several  other  Indians,  he  was  engaged 
in  hunting.  A deep  snow  was  upon  the  ground,  and  the 
weather  was  tempestuous.  On  their  way  home,  a num- 
ber of  raccoon  tracks  were  seen  in  the  snow,  and  Smith 
was  directed  to  follow  them,  and  observe  where  they  treed. 
He  did  so,  but  they  led  him  off  to  a much  greater  dis- 
tance than  was  supposed,  and  the  hunters  were  several 
miles  ahead  of  him,  when  he  attempted  to  rejoin  them. 

At  first  their  tracks  were  very  plain  in  the  snow,  and 
although  night  approached,  and  the  camp  was  distant, 
Smith  felt  no  anxiety.  But  about  dusk,  his  situation  be- 
came critical*  The  weather  became  suddenly  much 
colder,  the  wind  blew  a perfect  hurricane,  and  whirlwinds 
of  snow  blinded  his  eyes,  and  filled  up  the  tracks  of  his 
companions.  He  had  with  him  neither  a gun,  flint,  nor 
steel;  no  shelter  but  a blanket,  and  no  weapon  but  a tom- 
ahawk. He  plodded  on  for  several  hours,  ignorant  of  his 
route,  stumbling  over  logs,  and  chilled  with  cold,  until  the 
snow  became  so  deep,  as  seriously  to  impede  his  progress, 
and  the  flakes  fell  so  thick,  as  to  render  it  impossible  to 
soe  where  he  was  going.  He  shouted  aloud  for  help,  but 
no  answer  was  returned,  and  as  the  storm  every  instant 
became  more  outrageous,  he  began  to  think  that  his  hour 
had  come. 

Providentially,  in  stumbling  on  through  the  snow,  he 
came  to  a large  sycamore,  with  a considerable  opening  on 
the  windward  side.  He  hastily  crept  in  and  found  the 
hollow  sufficiently  large  to  accommodate  him  for  the  night, 
if  the  weather  side  could  be  closed  so  as  to  exclude  the 


28 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


snow  and  wind,  which  was  beating  against  it  with  great 
violence.  He  instantly  went  to  work  with  his  tomahawk 
and  cut  a number  of  sticks,  which  he  placed  upright 
against  the  hole,  and  piled  brush  against  it  in  great  quan- 
tities, leaving  a space  open  for  himself  to  creep  in.  He 
then  broke  up  a decayed  log,  and  cutting  it  into  small 
pieces,  pushed  them  one  by  one  into  the  hollow  of  the 
tree,  and  lastly,  crept  in  himself.  With  these  pieces,  he 
stopped  up  the  remaining  holes  of  his  den,  until  not  a 
chink  was  left  to  admit  the  light.  The  snow,  drifting  in 
large  quantities,  was  soon  banked  up  against  his  defen- 
ces, and  completely  sheltered  him  from  the  storm,  which 
still  continued  to  rage  with  undiminished  fury.  He  then 
danced  violently  in  the  center  of  his  den  for  two  hours, 
until  he  was  sufficiently  warmed,  and  wrapping  himself 
in  his  blanket,  he  slept  soundly  until  morning. 

He  awoke  in  utter  darkness,  and  groping  about,  he 
found  his  door  and  attempted  to  push  it  away,  but  the 
snow  had  drifted  against  it  in  such  quantities,  that  it  re- 
sisted his  utmost  efforts.  His  hair  now  began  to  bristle, 
anld  he  feared  that  he  had,  with  great  ingenuity,  contrived 
to  bury  himself  alive.  He  laid  down  again  for  several 
hours,  meditating  upon  what  he  should  do,  and  whether  he 
should  not  attempt  to  cut  through  the  tree  with  his 
tomahawk;  but  at  length  he  made  one  more  desperate  ef- 
fort to  push  away  the  door,  and  succeeded  in  moving  it 
several  inches,  when  a great  bank  of  snow  fell  in  upon 
him  from  above,  convincing  him  at  once  of  the  immense 
quantity  which  had  fallen.  He  at  length  burrowed  his 
way  into  the  upper  air,  and  found  it  broad  day  light,  and 
the  weather  calm  and  mild.  The  snow  lay  nearly  four 
feet  deep ; but  he  was  now  enabled  to  see  his  way  clear- 
ly, and  by  examining  the  barks  of  the  trees,  was  enabled 
to  return  to  camp. 

He  was  received  with  loud  shouts  of  joy  and  congratu- 
lation, but  not  a single  question  was  asked  until  he  had 
despatched  a hearty  meal  of  venison,  hommony,  and  sugar. 

The  old  chief,  Tecaughnetanego,  whom  we  have  already 
mentioned,  then  presented  him  with  his  own  pipe,  and  they 
all  remained  silent  until  Smith  had  smoked.  When  they 


JAMES  SMITH. 


29 

saw  him  completely  refreshed,  the  venerable  chief  ad- 
dressed him  in  a mild  and  affectionate  manner,  (for  Smith 
at  that  time,  was  a mere  boy  with  them,)  and  desired  to 
hear  a particular  account  of  the  manner  in  which  he  had 
passed  the  night.  Not  a word  was  spoken  until  Smith 
concluded  his  story,  and  then  he  was  greeted  on  all  sides 
with  shouts  of  approbation. 

Tecaughnetanego  arose  and  addressed  him  in  a short 
speech,  in  which  his  courage,  hardihood,  and  presence  of 
mind,  were  highly  commended.  He  was  exhorted  to  go 
on  as  he  had  begun,  and  assured,  that  one  day  he  would 
make  a very  great  man;  that  all  his  brothers  rejoiced  in 
his  safety,  as  much  as  they  had  lamented  his  supposed 
death;  that  they  were  preparing  snow  shoes  to  go  in  search 
of  him  when  he  appeared;  but  as  he  had  been  brought  up 
effeminately  among  the  whites,  they  never  expected  to 
see  him  alive.  In  conclusion,  he  was  promoted  from  the 
rank  of  a boy  to  that  of  a warrior,  and  assured,  that  when 
they  sold  skins  in  the  spring,  at  Detroit,  they  would  pur- 
chase for  him  a new  rifle.  And  they  faithfully  obs-erved 
their  promise. 

They  are  extravagantly  fond  of  rum;  but  drinking  does 
not  with  them,  as  with  the  whites,  form  a part  of  the  reg- 
ular business  of  life.  They  occasionally  indulge  in  a 
wild  and  frantic  revel,  which  sometimes  lasts  several  days, 
and  then  return  to  their  ordinary  habits.  They  cannot 
husband  their  liquor,  for  the  sake  of  prolonging  the  pleas- 
ure of  toping.  It  is  used  with  the  most  reckless  profu- 
sion while  it  lasts,  and  all  drink  to  beastly  intoxication. 
Their  squaws  are  as  fond  of  liquor  as  the  warriors,  and 
share  in  all  their  excesses. 

After  the  party  to  which  Smith  belonged,  had  sold  their 
beaver  skins,  and  provided  themselves  with  ammunition 
and  blankets,  all  their  surplus  cash  was  expended  in  rum, 
which  was  bought  by  the  keg.  They  then  held  a coun- 
cil, in  which  a few  strong  bodied  hunters  were  selected 
to  remain  sober,  and  protect  the  rest  during  the  revel,  for 
which  they  were  preparing.  Smith  was  courteously  in- 
vited to  get  drunk,  but  upon  his  refusal,  he  was  told  that  he 
must  then  join  the  sober  party,  and  assist  in  keeping  order* 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


30 

This,  as  he  quickly  found,  was  an  extremely  dangerous 
office;  but  before  engaging  in  the  serious  business  of 
drinking,  the  warriors  carefully  removed  their  tomahawks 
and  knives,  and  took  every  precaution  against  bloodshed. 
A shocking  scene  then  commenced.  Rum  was  swallowed 
in  immense  quantities,  and  their  wild  passions  were  stim- 
ulated to  frenzy!  Smith  and  the  sober  party,  were  ex- 
posed to  the  most  imminent  peril,  and  were  compelled  to 
risk  their  lives  every  moment.  Much  injury  was  done, 
but  no  lives  were  lost. 

In  the  Ottawa  camp,  where  the  same  infernal  orgies 
were  celebrated,  the  result  was  more  tragical.  Several 
warriors  were  killed  on  the  spot,  and  a number  more 
wounded.  So  long  as  they  had  money,  the  revel  was 
kept  up  day  and  night,  but  when  their  funds  were  ex- 
hausted, they  gathered  up  their  dead  and  wounded,  and 
with  dejected  countenances,  returned  to  the  wilderness. 
All  had  some  cause  of  lamentation.  The  blanket  of  one 
had  been  burnt,  and  he  had  no  money  to  buy  another;  the 
fine  clothes  of  another  had  been  torn  from  his  back;  some 
had  been  maimed;  and  all  had  improvidently  wasted  their 
money. 

The  religion  of  the  Indians,  although  defaced  by  super- 
stition,  and  intermingled  with  many  rites  and  notions 
which  to  us  appear  absurd,  contains,  nevertheless,  a dis- 
tinct acknowledgment  of  the  existence  of  a Supreme  Be- 
ing, and  a future  state.  The  various  tribes  are  represent- 
ed by  Dr.  Robertson  as  polytheists;  and  Mr.  Hume  con- 
siders polytheism  as  inseparably  attendant  upon  the  sav- 
age state-  It  appears,  however,  that  the  western  Indians 
approached  more  nearly  to  simple  deism,  than  most  savage 
nations  with  whom  we  have  been  heretofore  acquainted. 
One  Great  Spirit  is  universally  worshipped  throughout 
the  West;  although  different  tribes  give  him  different 
names-  In  the  immense  prairies  of  the  West,  he  is  gen- 
erally termed  the  Wahcondah,  or  master  of  life.  With 
the  Indians  of  the  lakes,  he  was  generally  termed  Manit- 
to,  which  we  believe  means  simply  “The  Spirit!”  In 
the  language  of  Smith’s  tribe  he  was  known  by  the  titla 
of  ^Owaneeyo,”  or  the  possessor  of  all  things- 


JAMES  SMITH. 


81 


Human  sacrifices  are  very  common  among  the  tribes 
living  west  of  the  Mississippi;  but  I have  seen  no  evi- 
dence of  such  a custom  among  those  of  the  North-west. 

Tecaughnetanego,  the  veteran  chief  whom  we  have  al- 
ready mentioned,  was  esteemed  the  wisest  and  most 
venerable  of  his  own  nation;  and  his  religious  opinions, 
perhaps,  may  be  regarded  as  a very  favorable  sample  of 
Indian  theology.  We  shall  take  the  liberty  of  detailing 
several  conversations  of  this  old  chief,  particularly  upon 
religious  subjects,  which  to  us,  were  the  most  interesting 
passages  of  Smith’s  diary;  growing,  as  they  did,  out  of 
a situation,  which  required  the  exercise  of  some  philoso- 
phy, and  reliance  upon  Providence.  We  have  already 
adverted  to  the  precarious  nature  of  the  Indian  supplies 
of  food,  dependant  as  they  are,  upon  the  woods  for  their 
meat,  and  liable  to  frequent  failures  from  the  state  of  the 
weather,  and  other  circumstances  over  which  they  hav# 
no  control. 

It  so  happened  that  Smith,  together  with  Tontileau- 
go  and  the  old  chief,  Tecaughnetanego,  were  encamp- 
ed at  a great  distance  from  the  rest  of  the  tribe,  and 
during  the  early  part  of  the  winter,  they  were  very  suc- 
cessful in  hunting,  and  were  abundantly  supplied  with  all 
necessaries.  Upon  the  breach  between  Tontileaugo  and 
his  wife,  however,  Smith  and  the  old  chief  were  left  in 
the  woods,  with  no  other  company  than  that  of  Nungany, 
a little  son  of  the  latter,  not  more  than  ten  years  old. 
Tecaughnetanego,  notwithstanding  his  age,  ^ which  ex* 
ceeded  sixty,)  was  still  a skilful  hunter,  and  capable  of 
great  exertion  when  in  good  health;  but,  unfortunately, 
was  subject  to  dreadful  attacks  of  rheumatism,  during 
which,  in  addition  to  the  most  excruciating  pain,  he  was 
incapable  of  moving  his  limbs,  or  helping  himself  in  any 
way.  Smith  was  but  a }mung  hunter,  and  Nungany  to* 
tally  useless  except  as  a cook;  but  w hile  Tecaughnetanego 
retained  the  use  of  his  limbs,  notwithstanding  the  loss  of 
Tontileaugo,  they  killed  gams  very  abundantly. 

About  the  middle  of  January,  however,  the  weather  be- 
came excessively  cold,  and  the  old  chief  was  stretched 
&ipQjo  the  floor  of  his  wigwrm3  totally  unable  to 


t2 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


The  whole  care  of  the  family  now  devolved  upon  Smith, 
and  his  exertions  were  not  wanting.  But  from  his  youth 
and  inexperience,  he  was  unable  to  provide  as  plentifully 
as  Tontileaugo  had  done,  and  they  were  reduced  to  very 
short  allowance.  The  old  chief,  notwithstanding  the  ex- 
cruciating pain  which  he  daily  suffered,  always  strove  to 
mtertain  Smith,  at  night,  with  agreeable  conversation, 
and  instructed  him  carefully  and  repeatedly  in  the  art  of 
hunting.  At  length  the  snow  became  hard  and  crusty, 
and  the  noise  of  Smith’s  footsteps  frightened  the  deer,  so 
that,  with  the  utmost  caution  he  could  use,  he  was  unable 
o get  within  gunshot.  The  family,  in  consequence,  were 
upon  the  eve  of  starvation. 

One  evening,  Smith  entered  the  hut,  faint  and  weary, 
after  a hunt  of  two  days,  during  which  he  had  eaten  noth- 
ing. Tecaughnetanego  had  fasted  for  the  same  length 
of  time,  and  both  had  been  upon  short  allowance  for  a 
week.  Smith  came  in  very  moodily,  and  laying  aside  his 
gun  and  powder  horn,  sat  down  by  the  fire  in  silence.  Te- 
caughnetanego inquired  mildly  and  calmly,  what  success 
he  had  had.  Smith  answered  that  they  must  starve,  as 
the  deer  were  so  wild  that  he  could  not  get  within  gunshot, 
and  it  was  too  far  to  go  to  any  Indian  settlement  for  food. 
The  old  man  remained  silent  for  a moment,  and  then  in 
the  same  mild  tone,  asked  him  if  he  was  hungry  ? Smith 
replied,  that  the  keen  appetite  seemed  gone,  but  that  he 
felt  sick  and  dizzy,  and  scarcely  able  to  walk.  “ I have 
made  Nungany  hunt  up  some  food  for  you,  brother,”  said 
the  old  man  kindly,  and  bade  him  produce  it.  This  food 
was  nothing  more  than  the  bones  of  a fox  and  wildcat,- 
which  had  been  thrown  into  the  woods  a few  days  before 
and  which  the  buzzards  had  already  picked  almost  bare. 

Nungany  had  collected  and  boiled  them,  until  the  sin 
ews  were  stripped  of  the  flesh,  intending  them  for  himsell 
and  father,  both  of  whom  were  nearly  famished;  but  the 
old  man  had  put  them  away  for  Smith,  in  case  he  shoulo 
again  return  without  food.  Smith  quickly  threw  himself 
upon  this  savoury  soup,  and  swallowed  spoonful  after  spoon 
ful,  with  the  voracity  of  a wolf.  Tecaughnetanego  waited 
patiently  until  he  had  finished  his  meal,  which  continued 


JAMES  SMITH. 


33 


until  the  last  spoonful  had  been  swallowed,  and  then 
handing  him  his  own  pipe,  invited  him  to  smoke.  Little 
Nungany,  in  the  mean  time,  removed  the  kettle,  after 
looking  in  vain  for  some  remnant  of  the  feast  for  his  own 
supper.  He  had  watched  every  mouthful  which  Smith 
swallowed  with  eager  longing,  but  in  perfect  silence,  and 
finding,  that  for  the  third  night,  he  must  remain  supper 
less,  he  sat  down  quietly  at  his  father’s  feet,  and  was  soon 
asleep. 

Tecaughnetanego,  as  soon  as  Smith  had  smoked,  asked 
him  if  he  felt  refreshed,*  and  upon  receiving  an  animated 
assurance  in  the  affirmative,  he  addressed  him  mildly  as 
follows : “I  saw,  my  brother,  when  you  first  came  in,  that 
you  had  been  unfortunate  in  hunting,  and  were  ready  to 
despair.  I should  have  spoken  at  the  time,  what  I am 
now  about  to  say,  but  I have  always  observed,  that  hun- 
gry people  are  not  in  a temper  to  listen  to  reason.  You 
are  now  refreshed,  and  can  listen  patiently  to  the  words 
of  your  elder  brother.  I was  once  young  like  you,  but 
am  now  old.  I have  seen  sixty  snows  fall,  and  have  often 
been  in  a worse  condition,  from  want  of  food,  than  we 
now  are;  yet  I have  always  been  supplied,  and  that,  too, 
at  the  very  time  when  I was  ready  to  despair.  Brother: 
you  have  been  brought  up  among  the  whites,  and  have 
not  had  the  same  opportunities  of  seeing  how  wonderful- 
ly Owaneeyo  provides  food  for  his  children  in  the  woods ! 
He  sometimes  lets  them  be  in  great  want,  to  teach  them 
that  they  are  dependant  upon  him,  and  to  remind  them  of 
their  own  weakness ; but  he  never  permits  them  absolutely 
to  perish.  Rest  assured  that  your  brother  is  telling  you 
no  lie;  but  be  satisfied  that  he  will  do  as  I have  told  you. 
Go  now:  sleep  soundly;  rise  early  in  the  morning  and  go 
out  to  hunt $•  be  strong  and  diligent;  do  your  best,  and  trust 
to  Owaneeyo  for  the  rest.” 

When  we  recollect  that  this  admirable  speech  came 
from  a wild  Indian,  totally  uninstructed,  and  untaught  to 
restrain  his  passions ; that  at  the  very  time,  he  was  suffer- 
ing the  most  excruciating  pain,  both  from  disease  and  hun- 
ger; that  he  had  denied  himself  a morsel  of  food,  in  order 
to  bestow  it  upon  Smith;  and,  lastly,  that  from  the  state  of 


34 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE, 


the  snow  and  Smith’s  inexperience,  he  had  no  human  pros* 
pect  of  relief;  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say,  that  a more 
striking  example  of  wisdom,  mildness,  and  magnanimity, 
was  never  exhibited. 

Smith  was  powerfully  struck  by  the  old  man’s  reason- 
ing; and  still  more  affected  by  the  patience  and  firmness 
with  which  he  sustained  himself,  under  the  complicated 
puffering  with  which  he  was  visited.  In  the  morning,  at 
daylight,  he  seized  his  gun,  and  commenced  the  duties  of 
tiie  day  with  great  spirit.  He  saw  a great  many  deer, 
but  the  crashing  of  the  crust  alarmed  them  as  heretofore; 
and  after  hunting  until  noon  without  success,  he  began  to 
suspect  that  Tecaughnetanego  must  have  been  mistaken, 
and  that  they  were  certainly  destined  to  starve.  Hia 
hunger  seemed  rather  whetted  than  allayed  by  his  sump- 
tuous repast  upon  wildcat  bones,  the  evening  before,  and 
now  became  so  ravenous  as  to  divest  him  of  all  reason, 
and  he  determined  to  run  back  to  Pennsylvania.  True, 
the  intervening  country  was  crowded  with  hostile  Indians, 
but  the  edge  of  the  tomahawk  was  not  keener  than  that 
of  hunger;  and  a sharp  and  quick  death,  infinitely  prefer- 
rable  to  the  slow  and  torturing  ravages  of  starvation. 

Having  hastily  adopted  this  desperate  resolution,  he 
quickened  his  pace,  and  moved  off  steadily  in  the  direction 
of  Pennsylvania.  He  had  not  gone  more  than  seven  or 
eight  miles,  before  he  heard  the  lowing  of  buffalo  in  fronts 
and  in  a few  minutes,  came  in  view  of  a noble  herd,  march- 
ing leisurely  ahead  of  him.  He  ran  with  great  rapidity 
in  such  a direction  as  to  head  them,  and  concealing  himself 
in  a thicket,  awaited  their  approach.  They  passed  leisurely 
within  a few  yards  of  him,  so  that  he  had  an  opportunity 
of  selecting  a fat  heifer,  which  he  killed  at  the  first 
fire.  He  quickly  struck  fire  from  his  flint — and  cutting 
a few  slices  from  the  fleshiest  part,  he  laid  it  upon  the 
coals,  but  could  not  wait  until  it  was  done.  After  gorg- 
ing himself  with  raw  beef,  which  (with  the  exception  of 
the  wildcat  bones  of  the  preceding  night,)  he  thought  the 
most  delicious  food  he  had  ever  tasted,  he  began  to  be 
tenderly  concerned  for  the  old  man  and  little  boy,  whom 
he  had  left  in  a famishing  condition  at  the  wigwam. 


JAMES  SMITH. 


as 

His  conscience  reproached  him  for  leaving  them  to  per- 
ish; and  he  instantly  loaded  himself  heavily  with  the  fat- 
test and  fleshiest  pieces,  and  having  secured  the  rest  from 
the  wolves,  returned  to  their  camp,  with  as  much  expedi- 
tion as  he  could  exert.  It  was  late  at  night  when  he  en- 
tered the  wigwam.  Tecaughnetanego  received  him  with 
the  same  mild  equanimity  which  had  heretofore  distin- 
guished him,  and  thanked  him  very  affectionately  for  the 
exertions  which  he  had  used,  while  the  eyes  of  the  fam- 
ished boy  were  fastened  upon  the  beef  as  if  he  would  de- 
vour it  raw.  His  father  ordered  him  to  hang  on  the  ket- 
tle and  cook  some  beef  for  them  all ; but  Smith  declared 
that  he  himself  would  cook  for  the  old  man,  while  Nun- 
gany  broiled  some  meat  upon  the  coals  for  himself.  The 
boy  looked  eagerly  at  his  father  for  his  consent,  and  re- 
ceiving a nod  in  reply,  he  sprung  upon  the  meat  as  a kite 
would  pounce  upon  a pullet,  and  unable  to  wait  for  the 
slow  operation  of  the  fire,  began  to  eat  it  raw. 

Smith  in  the  mean  time  had  cut  several  very  thin  slices 
and  placed  them  in  the  kettle  to  boil;  but  supposing  Te- 
caughnetanego as  impatient  as  himself,  he  was  about  to 
take  it  off  the  fire  after  a very  few  minutes,  when  the  old 
man,  in  a tone  as  calm  and  quiet  as  if  he  had  not  fasted 
for  three  whole  days,  desired  him  to  “let  it  be  done 
enough.”  At  the  same  time  he  ordered  Nungany,  who 
was  still  eating  like  a shark,  to  take  no  more  at  present, 
but  to  sit  down,  and  after  a few  minutes  he  might  sup  a 
little  broth.  The  old  man  then  reminded  Smith  of  their 
conversation  the  night  before;  and  of  the  striking  truth 
with  which  his  assurance  of  Owaneeyo’s  goodness  had 
been  accomplished.  At  length  he  desired  Smith  to  give 
him  the  beef,  observing  that  it  had  been  boiled  enough; 
and,  as  if  he  had  reserved  all  his  vigor  for  that  moment, 
he  assaulted  it  with  a keenness  and  perseverance,  which 
showed  that  the  gifts  of  Owaneeyo  were  not  thrown  away. 

In  the  morning,  Tecaughnetanego  requested  Smith  to 
return  to  the  spot  where  he  had  killed  the  buffalo,  and 
bring  in  the  rest  of  it  to  camp.  He  accordingly  took 
down  his  rifle  and  entered  the  wood,  intending  to 
hunt  on  the  road.  At  the  distance  of  a few  miles  from 


36 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


camp,  he  saw  a large  elm,  which  had  been  much  scratched, 
and  perching  a hole  in  it  at  the  distance  of  forty  feet 
from  the  ground,  he  supposed  that  a bear  had  selected  it 
for  his  winter  quarters,  and  instantly  determined  to  rouse 
him  from  his  slumbers.  With  his  tomahawk,  he  cut  down 
a sapling  which  grew  near  the  tree,  in  such  a manner  as 
to  lodge  it  against  the  den.  He  then  cut  a long  pole, 
and  tied  a few  bunches  of  rotten  wood  to  the  end  of  it. 
Taking  it  then  in  his  hand,  he  climbed  the  sapling,  until 
he  reached  the  mouth  of  the  den,  and  setting  fire  to  the 
rotten  wood,  put  it  into  the  hollow  as  far  as  he  could 
reach.  He  soon  had  the  gratification  of  hearing  poor 
Bruin  sneeze  and  cough,  as  if  in  great  trouble;  and  rap- 
idly sliding  down  the  sapling,  he  seized  his  gun  at  the 
moment  the  bear  showed  himself.  He  instantly  shot  him, 
and  having  loaded  himself  with  the  hind  quarters,  he 
marched  back  in  high  spirits  to  the  wigwam.  They  were 
now  well  provided  for  a week;  and  in  a few  days  the 
snow  thawed  so  much  as  to  enable  him  to  kill  deer;  so 
that  during  the  rest  of  the  winter,  they  fared  sumptuously. 

Early  in  April,  Tecaughnetanego’s  rheumatism  abated 
so  much  as  to  permit  him  to  walk,  upon  which,  they  all 
three  built  a bark  canoe,  and  descended  the  Ollentangy, 
until  the  water  became  so  shallow  as  to  endanger  their 
frail  bark  among  the  rocks.  A council  was  then  held,  in 
which  Tecaughnetanego  proposed  to  go  ashore,  and  pray 
for  rain  to  raise  the  creek  or  river  so  as  to  enable  them 
to  continue  their  journey.  Smith  readily  consented,  and 
they  accordingly  disembarked,  drawing  their  canoe  ashore 
after  them.  Here  the  old  Indian  built  a “sweating 
house,1’  in  order  to  purify  himself,  before  engaging  in  his 
religious  duties. 

He  stuck  a number  of  semicircular  hoops  in  the  ground, 
and  laid  a blanket  over  them.  He  then  heated  a number 
of  large  stones,  and  placed  them  under  the  blanket,  and 
finally  crawled  in  himself,  with  a kettle  of  water  in  his 
hand,  directing  Smith  to  draw  down  the  blanket  after  him, 
so  as  almost  entirely  to  exclude  the  external  air.  He 
then  poured  the  water  upon  the  hot  stones,  and  began  to 
sing  aloud  with  great  energy,  the  steam  rising  from  the 


JAMES  SMITH. 


37 

blanket  like  a heavy  mist.  In  this  hot  place  he  continued 
for  fifteen  minutes,  singing  the  whole  time,  and  then  came 
out  dripping  with  perspiration  from  head  to  foot.  As  soon 
as  he  had  taken  breath,  he  began  to  burn  tobacco,  throw- 
ing it  into  the  fire  by  handfuls,  and  at  the  same  time  re- 
peating the  following  words  in  a tone  of  deep  and  solemn 
earnestness : 

“Oh  Great  Owaneeyo!  I thank  thee  that  I have  re- 
gained the  use  of  my  legs  once  more;  that  I am  now  able 
to  walk  about  and  kill  turkeys,  without  feeling  exquisite 
pain.  Oh!  ho!  ho!  ho!  Grant  that  my  knees  and  ankles 
may  be  right  well,  that  I may  be  able  not  only  to  walk, 
but  to  run  and  to  jump  logs,  as  I did  last  fall!  Oh!  ho! 
ho!  ho!  Grant  that,  upon  this  voyage  we  may  frequently 
kill  bears  as  they  may  be  crossing  the  Sandusky  and  Sci- 
oto! Oh!  ho!  ho!  ho!  Grant  that  we  may  also  kill  a few 
turkeys  to  stew  with  our  bear’s  meat!  Oh!  ho!  ho!  ho! 
Grant  that  rain  may  come  to  raise  the  Ollentangy  a few 
feet,  that  we  may  cross  in  safety  down  to  Scioto,  with- 
out splitting  our  canoe  upon  the  rocks.  And  now,  O 
Great  Owaneeyo!  thou  knowest  how  fond  I am  of  tobacco, 
and  though  I do  not  know  when  I shall  get  any  more,  yet 
you  see  that  I have  freely  given  up  all  I have  for  a burnt- 
offering;  therefore,  I expect  that  thou  wilt  be  merciful 
and  hear  all  my  petitions;  and  I,  thy  servant,  will  thank 
thee,  and  love  thee  for  all  thy  gifts.” 

Smith  held  the  old  chief  in  great  veneration,  and  has 
observed,  that  he  never  in  his  life  listened  to  a man  who 
reasoned  more  clearly  and  powerfully  upon  such  subjects 
as  came  before  him;  and  he  heard  the  first  part  of  his 
prayer  with  great  respect  and  due  gravity:  but  when  the 
attention  of  Owaneeyo  was  called  to  the  tobacco,  which 
his  votary  bestowed  upon  him  so  liberally,  his  muscles 
gave  way,  and  in  spite  of  his  efforts  to  restrain  himself, 
he  burst  into  a low  and  half  stifled  laugh.  Ridicule  is  at 
all  times  formidable,  but  particularly  so  in  a moment  of 
enthusiasm  and  sincere  devotion.  Tecaughnetanego  was 
deeply  and  seriously  offended,  and  rebuked  his  young 
companion  in  the  following  words : 

“Brother,  I have  somewhat  to  say  to  you!  When  you 


38 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


were  reading  your  books  in  our  village,  you  know  I would 
not  let  the  boys  plague  you,  or  laugh  at  you,  although  we 
all  thought  it  a foolish  and  idle  occupation  in  a warrior. 
I respected  your  feelings  then;  but  just  now  I saw  you 
laughing  at  me!  Brother,  I do  not  believe  that  you  look 
upon  praying  as  a silly  custom,  for  you  sometimes  pray 
yourself.  Perhaps  you  think  my  mode  of  praying  foolish, 
but  if  so,  would  it  not  be  more  friendly  to  reason  with  me, 
and  instruct  me,  than  to  sit  on  that  log  ami  laugh  at  an 
old  man?” 

Smith  apologized  with  great  earnestness,  declaring  that 
he  respected  and  loved  him  sincerely,  but  that  when  he 
caw  him  throw  the  last  of  his  tobacco  into  the  fire,  and 
recollected  how  fond  he  was  of  it,  he  could  not  help  smit- 
ing a little,  although  for  the  future  he  would  never  have 
reason  to  complain  of  him  on  that  account.  The  old  man, 
without  saying  a word,  handed  him  his  pipe  as  a token  of 
friendship,  although  it  was  filled  only  with  willow  bark; 
and  the  little  difference  was  soon  forgotten-. 

Smith  then  explained  to  him  the  outlines  of  the  Chris- 
tian religion,  and  dwelt  particularly  upon  the  doctrine  of 
reconciliation  through  the  atonement  of  Christ.  Tecaugb- 
netanego  listened  with  patience  and  gravity  until  hie 
companion  had  ended  his  remarks,  and  then  calmly  observ- 
ed, that  “it  might  he  so!”  He  even  acknowledged,  “ that 
it  did  not  appear  so  absurd,  as  the  doctrine  of  the  Romish 
priests,  which  he  had  heard  at  Detroit,  but  declared  that 
he  was  too  old  now  to  change  his  religion ; that  he  should, 
therefore,  continue  to  worship  God  after  the  manner  of 
his  fathers;  and  if  it  was  not  consistent  with  the  honor 
of  the  Great  Spirit  to  accept  of  him  in  that  way , then  he 
hoped  that  he  would  receive  him  upon  such  terms  as  were 
acceptable  to  him ; that  it  was  his  earnest  and  sincere  de- 
sire to  worship  the  Great  Spirit,  and  obey  his  wishes;  and 
he  hoped  that  Owaneeyo  would  overlook  such  faults  as 
arose  from  ignorance  and  weakness,  not  willful  neglect.” 
To  a speech  of  this  kind,  the  sentiments  of  which  find  an 
echo  in  almost  every  breast,  Smith  could  make  no  reply. 
Here,  therefore,  the  subject  ended. 

A few  days  afterward,  there  came  a fine  rain,  and  tht 


JAMES  SMITH. 


39 


#llentangy  was  soon  sufficiently  deep  to  admit  of  their 
passage  in  safety,  and  after  reaching  the  Sandusky  they 
killed  four  bears  and  a great  many  wild  turkeys.  Te- 
caughnetanego  gravely  assured  Smith,  that  this  was  a 
clear  and  direct  answer  to  his  prayer,  and  inferred  from 
it,  that  his  religion  could  not  be  as  unacceptable  to  Owaneo- 
yo  as  Smith  supposed.  Perhaps  it  would  be-  difficult  to 
disprove  the  first  part  of  the  old  Indian’s  observation : tb 
last  is  more  questionable. 

We  have  already  gleaned  all  the  most  interesting  parts 
of  Smith’s  narrative,  for  the  long  details  of  huntings, 
trappings,  and  migrations,  without  particular  object  or  in- 
cident, would  scarcely  be  interesting  to  the  reader.  We 
have  endeavored  to  select  such  circumstances,  as  would 
givei  the  general  reader  a lively  idea  of  the  habits  and 
opinions  of  the  western  Indians,  without  burdening  our 
narrative  with  too  much  detail.  As  most,  if  not  all  the 
subsequent  adventures,  will  have  a close  connection  with 
Indian  life,  it  was  thought  proper  to  commence  with  a 
narrative  which  should  throw  some  light  upon  that  subject. 
It  is  only  necessary,  further,  to  observe,  that  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1759,  and  in  the  fourth  year  of  his  captivity  or 
rather  adoption,  Smith,  accompanied  by  Tecaughnetanego 
and  Nungany,  sailed  in  a bark  canoe  down  the  St.  Law- 
rence, as  far  as  Montreal. 

Here  he  privately  left  his  Indian  companions,  and  went 
cm  board  a French  transport,  which  he  had  heard  was  about 
to  sail,  with  a number  of  English  prisoners  on  board,  in- 
tended to  be  exchanged.  After  having  been  detained 
come  time  in  Montreal,  in  consequence  of  the  English 
fleet  being  below,  he  was  at  length  exchanged  and  return- 
ed to  his  native  country.  His  family  and  sweetheart 
received  him  with  great  joy;  but  to  his  inexpressible 
mortification,  the  latter  had  been  married  only  a few  days 
before  his  arrival.  His  subsequent  adventures,  although 
novel  and  interesting,  do  not  properly  come  within  the 
range  of  our  present  subject.  We  refer  the  reader,  who 
may  desire  to  know  more,  to  Colonel  Smith’s  own  narra- 
tive, which  has  recently  been  reprinted  by  John  Grigg 
of  Philadelphia. 


40 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


CHAPTER  IL 

The  adventures,  which  in  order  of  time,  should  come 
next,  are  those  of  the  celebrated  Daniel  Boone  ; for  of 
Findley,  said  to  be  the  first  white  man  who  ever  visited 
Kentucky,  nothing  is  known,  but  the  simple  fact  that  he 
lid  visit  it,  first  alone,  and  afterwards  in  company  with 
Boone.  It  is  much  to  be  regretted,  that  the  materials  for 
a sketch  of  Boone  are  so  scanty.  He  has  left  us  a brief 
account  of  his  adventures,  but  they  are  rather  such  as 
one  would  require  for  the  composition  of  an  epitaph,  than 
of  a biography.  The  leading  incidents  are  mentioned  in 
a general  way,  and  there  are  some  gaudy  and  ambitious 
sketches  of  scenery  which  swell  the  bulk  of  the  piece, 
without  either  pleasing  the  imagination  or  gratifying  the 
curiosity.  It  would  seem  that  the  brief  notes  of  the  plain 
old  woodsman,  had  been  committed  to  some  young  sciolist 
in  literature,  who  thought  that  flashy  description  could 
atone  for  barrenness  of  incident. 

A general  summary  of  remarkable  events,  neither  ex- 
cites nor  gratifies  curiosity,  like  a minute  detail  of  all  the 
circumstances  connected  with  them.  This  trait,  so -essen- 
tial to  the  interest  of  narratives,  and  of  which  perhaps 
the  most  splendid  example  in  existence,  has  been  given 
in  Mr.  Cooper’s  “ Last  of  the  Mohicans,”  is  deplorably 
wanting  in  most  of  the  materials  to  which  we  have  had 
access.  A novelist  may  fill  up  the  blank  from  his  own 
imagination ; but  a writer  who  professes  to  adhere  to  truth, 
is  fettered  down  to  the  record  before  him.  If,  therefore, 
in  the  following  details,  we  should  be  found  guilty  of  the 
unpardonable  sin  of  dullness,  we  hope  that  at  least  a por- 
tion of  the  blame  will  fall  upon  the  scantiness  of  the  ma- 
terials. 

Of  Mr.  Boone’s  early  youth,  nothing  is  known.  He 
has  modestly  forborne  to  say  any  thing  of  himself,  except 
so  far  as  he  is  connected  with  the  settlement  of  Kentucky. 
He  was  born  in  Virginia;  but  instigated  by  that  roving 
spirit  which  distinguished  him  throughout  life,  he  emigra 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


41 


ted  at  an  early  period  to  North  Carolina,  and  hve<*  mtil 
his  fortieth  year  upon  the  banks  of  the  Yadkin.  In  ' /67 
Findley  returned  from  his  adventurous  journey,  and 
brought  with  him  a report  of  a large  tract  of  fertile  coun- 
try, totally  unoccupied,  and  abounding  in  every  variety 
of  game,  from  the  beaver  to  the  buffalo.  To  a man  like 
Boone,  fond  of  hunting,  and  naturally  attached  to  a roving 
and  adventurous  life,  such  a scene  presented  irresistible 
charms.  Accordingly,  in  1769,  he  left  his  family  upon 
the  Yadkin,  and  in  company  with  five  others,  of  whom 
Findley  was  one,  he  moved  in  a western  direction,  being 
determined  to  explore  that  country  of  which  he  had  heard 
so  favorable  an  account. 

On  the  7th  of  June  they  reached  Red  river,  and  from  a 
neighboring  eminence  were  enabled  to  survey  the  vast 
plain  of  Kentucky.  Here  they  built  a cabin,  in  order  to 
afford  them  a shelter  from  the  rain  which  had  fallen  in 
immense  quantities  on  their  march,  and  remained  in  a 
great  measure  stationary  until  December,  killing  a great, 
quantity  of  game  immediately  around  them.  Immense 
herds  of  buffalo  ranged  through  the  forest  in  every  direc- 
tion, feeding  upon  the  leaves  of  the  cane  or  the  rich  and 
spontaneous  fields  of  clover. 

On  the  22d  of  December,  Boone  and  John  Stuart,  one 
of  his  companions,  left  their  encampment,  and  following 
one  of  the  numerous  paths  which  the  buffalo  had  made 
through  the  cane,  they  plunged  boldly  into  the  interior  of 
the  forest.  They  had  as  yet  seen  no  Indians,  and  the 
country  had  been  reported  as  totally  uninhabited.  This 
was  true  in  a strict  sense,  for  although  the  southern  and 
northwestern  tribes  were  in  the  habit  of  hunting  here  as 
upon  neutral  ground,  yet  not  a single  wigwam  had  been 
erected,  nor  did.  the  land  bear  the  slightest  mark  of  having 
ever  been  cultivated.  The  different  tribes  would  fall  in  with 
each  other,  and  from  the  fierce  conflicts  which  generally 
followed  these  casual  rencounters,  the  country  had  been 
known  among  them  by  the  name  of  « the  dark  and  bloody 
ground /”  The  two  adventurers  soon  learned  the  addi- 
tional danger  to  which  they  were  exposed.  While  roving 
carelessly  from  canebrake  to  canebrake,  and  admiring  the 


43 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


rank  growth  of  vegetation,  and  the  variety  of  timber 
which  marked  the  fertility  of  the  soil,  they  were  suddenly 
alarmed  by  the  appearance  of  a party  of  Indians,  who, 
springing  from  their  place  of  concealment,  rushed  upon 
them  with  a rapidity  which  rendered  escape  impossible. 

They  were  almost  instantly  seized,  disarmed,  and  made 
prisoners.  Their  feelings  may  be  readily  imagined. 
They  were  in  the  hands  of  an  enemy  who  knew  no  alter- 
native between  adoption  and  torture;  and  the  numbers  and 
fleetness  of  their  captors,  rendered  escape  by  open  meanj 
impossible,  while  their  jealous  vigilance  seemed  equally 
fatal  to  any  secret  attempt.  Boone,  however,  was  pos- 
sessed of  a temper  admirably  adapted  to  the  circumstan- 
ces in  which  he  was  placed.  Of  a cold  and  saturnine, 
rather  than  an  ardent  disposition,  he  was  never  either  so 
much  elevated  by  good  fortune  or  depressed  by  bad,  as  Vo 
lose  for  an  instant  the  full  possession  of  all  his  faculties. 
He  saw  that  immediate  escape  was  impossible,  but  be 
encouraged  his  companion,  and  constrained  himself  to  ae~ 
company  the  Indians  in  all  their  excursions,  with  so  calm 
and  contented  an  air,  that  their  vigilance  insensibly  be- 
gai  lo  relax. 

On  the  seventh  evening  of  their  captivity,  they  en- 
camped in  a thick  canebrake,  and  having  built  a large 
fire,  lay  down  to  rest.  The  party  whose  duty  it  was  to 
watch,  were  weary  and  negligent,  and  about  midnight, 
Boone,  who  had  not  closed  an  eye,  ascertained  from  the 
deep  breathing  all  around  him,  that  the  whole  party,  in- 
cluding Stuart,  was  in  a deep  sleep.  Gently  and  gradu- 
ally extricating  himself  from  the  Indians  who  lay  around 
him,  he  walked  cautiously  to  the  spot  where  Stuart  lay, 
and  having  succeeded  in  awakening  him,  without  alarming 
the  rest,  he  briefly  informed  him  of  his  determination,  and 
exhorted  him  to  arise,  make  no  noise,  and  follow  him* 
Stuart,  although  ignorant  of  the  design,  and  suddenly 
roused  from  sleep,  fortunately  obe)'ed  with  equal  silence 
and  celerity,  and  within  a few'  minutes  they  were  beyond 
shearing. 

Rapidly  traversing  the  forest,  by  the  light  of  the  stars 
and  the  barks  of  the  trees,  they  ascertained  the  direction 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


43 


in  which  the  camp  lay,  but  upon  reaching  it  on  the  next 
day,  to  their  great  grief,  they  found  it  plundered  and  de- 
serted, with  nothing  remaining  to  show  the  fate  of  their 
companions:  and  even  to  the  day  of  his  death,  Boono 
knew  not  whether  they  had  been  killed  or  taken,  or  had 
voluntarily  abandoned  their  cabin  and  returned.  Here, 
in  a few  days,  they  wrere  accidentally  joined  by  Boone’* 
brother  and  another  man,  who  had  followed  them  from 
Carolina,  and  fortunately  stumbled  upon  their  camp.  This 
accidental  meeting  in  the  bosom  of  a vast  wilderness, 
gave  great  relief  to  the  two  brothers,  although  their  joy 
was  soon  overcast. 

Boone  and  Stuart,  in  a second  excursion,  were  again 
pursued  by  savages,  and  Stuart  was  shot  and  scalped, 
while  Boone  fortunately  escaped.  As  usual,  he  has  not 
mentioned  particulars,  but  barely  stated  the  event.  Within 
a few  days  they  sustained  another  calamity,  if  possible,  still 
more  distressing.  Their  only  remaining  companion  was 
benighted  in  a hunting  excursion,  and  while  encamped  in 
the  woods  alone,  was  attacked  and  devoured  by  the  wolves. 

The  two  brothers  were  thus  left  in  the  wilderness,  alone, 
separated  by  several  hundred  miles  from  home,  surround 
ed  by  hostile  Indians,  and  destitute  of  every  thing  but 
their  rifles.  After  having  had  such  melancholy  experi- 
ence of  the  dangers  to  which  they  were  exposed,  w-o 
would  naturally  suppose  that  their  fortitude  would  have 
given  way,  and  that  they  would  instantly  have  returned 
to  the  settlements.  But  the  most  remarkable  feature  in 
Boone’s  character,  was  a calm  and  cold  equanimity  which 
rarely  rose  to  enthusiasm,  and  never  sunk  to  despond- 
ence. 

His  courage  undervalued  the  danger  to  w hich  he  was 
exposed,  and  his  presence  of  mind,  which  never  forsook 
him,  enabled  him,  on  all  occasions,  to  take  the  best  means 
of  avoiding  it.  The  wilderness,  with  all  its  dangers  and 
privations,  had  a charm  for  him,  which  is  scarcely  con- 
ceivable by  one  brought  up  in  a city;  and  he  determined 
to  remain  alone,  while  his  brother  returned  to  Carolina 
for  an  additional  supply  of  ammunition,  as  their  original 
supply  was  nearly  exhausted.  His  situation  we  should 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


44 

now  suppose  in  the  highest  degree  gloomy  and  dispiriting. 
The  dangers  which  attended  his  brother  on  his  return 
were  nearly  equal  *to  his  own ; and  each  had  left  a wife 
and  children,  which  Boone  acknowledged  cost  him  many 
an  anxious  thought. 

But  the  wild  and  solitary  grandeur  of  the  country 
around  him,  where  not  a tree  had  been  cut,  nor  a house 
erected,  was  to  him  an  inexhaustible  source  of  admiration 
and  delight,-  and  he  says  himself,  that  some  of  the  most 
rapturous  moments  of  his  life  were  spent  in  those  lonely 
rambles.  The  utmost  caution  was  necessary  to  avoid 
the  savages,  and  scarcely  less  to  escape  the  ravenous 
hunger  of  the  wolves  that  prowled  nightly  around  him  in 
immense  numbers.  He  was  compelled  frequently  to  shift 
his  lodging,  and  by  undoubted  signs,  saw  that  the  Indians 
had  repeatedly  visited  his  hut  during  his  absence.  He 
sometimes  lay  in  canebrakes,  without  fire,  and  heard  the 
yells  of  the  Indians  around  him.  Fortunately,  however, 
he  never  encountered  them. 

On  the  27th  of  July,  1770,  his  brother  returned  with  a 
supply  of  ammunition;  and  with  a hardihood,  which  ap- 
pears almost  incredible,  they  ranged  through  the  country 
in  every  direction,  and  without  injury,  until  March,  1771. 
They  then  returned  to  North  Carolina,  where  Daniel  re- 
joined his  family,  after  an  absence  of  three  years,  during 
nearly  the  whole  of  which  time  he  had  never  tasted  bread 
or  salt,  nor  seen  the  face  of  a single  white  man,  with  the 
excerption  of  his  brother,  and  the  two  friends  who  had 
been  killed.  He  here  determined  to  sell  his  farm,  and 
remove,  with  his  family,  to  the  wilderness  of  Kentucky; 
an  astonishing  instance  of  hardihood,  and  we  should  even 
say  indifference  to  his  family,  if  it  were  not  that  his  char- 
acter has  uniformly  been  represented  as  mild  and  humane, 
as  it  was  bold  and  fearless. 

Accordingly,  on  the  25th  of  September,  1771,  having 
disposed  of  all  the  property  which  he  could  not  take  with 
him,  he  took  leave  of  his  friends  and  commenced  his  jouiv 
ney  to  the  west.  A number  of  milch  cows,  and  horses, 
laden  with  a few  necessary  household  utensils,  formed 
the  whole  of  his  baggage.  His  wife  and  children  were 


DANIEL  BOON*. 


45 

mounted  on  horseback  and  accompanied  him,  every  one 
regarding  them  as  devoted  to  destruction.  In  Powell’s 
valley  they  were  joined  by  five  more  families  and  forty 
men  well  armed.  Encouraged  by  this  accession  of  strength, 
they  advanced  with  additional  confidence,  but  had  soon  a 
severe  warning  of  the  further  dangers  which  awaited 
them.  When  near  Cumberland  mountain,  their  rear  was 
suddenly  attacked  with  great  fury  by  a scouting  party  of 
Indians,  and  thrown  into  considerable  confusion. 

The  party,  however,  soon  rallied,  and  being  accustom- 
ed to  Indian  warfare,  returned  the  fire  with  such  spirit 
and  effect,  that  the  Indians  were  repulsed  with  slaughter. 
Their  own  loss,  however,  had  been  severe.  Six  men 
were  killed  upon  the  spot,  and  one  wounded.  Among  the 
killed  was  Boone’s  eldest  son,  to  the  unspeakable  afflic- 
tion of  his  family.  The  disorder  and  grief  occasioned  by 
this  rough  reception,  seems  to  have  affected  the  emigrants 
deeply,  as  they  instantly  retraced  their  steps  to  the  set- 
tlements on  Clinch  river,  forty  miles  from  the  scene  of 
action.  Here  they  remained  until  June,  1774,  probably 
at  the  request  of  the  women,  who  must  have  been  greatly 
alarmed  at  the  prospect  of  plunging  more  deeply  into  a 
country,  upon  the  skirts  of  which,  they  had  witnessed  so 
keen  and  bloody  a conflict. 

At  this  time,  Boone,  at  the  request  of  Governor  Dun- 
more,  of  Virginia,  conducted  a number  of  surveyors  to  the 
falls  of  Ohio,  a distance  of  eight  hundred  miles.  Of  the 
incidents  of  this  journey,  we  have  no  record  whatever. 
After  his  return,  he  was  engaged  under  Dunmore  until 
1775  in  several  affairs  with  the  Indians,  and  at  the  solicit- 
ation of  some  gentlemen  of  North  Carolina,  he  attended 
at  a treaty  with  the  Cherokees,  for  the  purpose  of  pur- 
chasing the  lands  south  of  Kentucky  river.  With  his 
usual  brevity,  Boone  has  omitted  to  inform  us  of  the  par- 
ticulars of  this  conference,  or  of  the  peculiar  character  of 
the  business  upon  which  he  was  sent.  By  the  aid  of  Mr. 
Marshall’s  valuable  history,  however,  we  are  enabled  to 
supply  this  silence,  at  least  with  regard  to  the  latter  cir- 
cumstance. 

It  seems  that  the  Cherokees,  living  within  the  charter  * 


4j6 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


ed  limits  of  the  state  of  North  Carolina,  claimed  all  me. 
land  south  of  the  Kentucky  as  far  as  Tennessee  river. 
That  Colonel  Richard  Henderson  and  some  other  gentle- 
men, animated  by  the  glowing  description  of  the  fertility 
of  the  soil,  which  Boone  and  his  brother  had  given  upon 
their  return,  determined  to  purchase  the  whole  of  this  im- 
mense tract  from  the  Cherokees,  and  employ  Boone  as 
their  agent.  The  Cherokees  gladly  parted  with  an  empty 
title,  for  a solid,  although  moderate  recompense,  and  Hen- 
derson and  his  friends  instantly  prepared  to  take  posses- 
sion, relying  upon  the  validity  of  their  deed  from  the  In- 
dians. Unfortunately,  however,  for  the  success  of  these 
speculators,  Kentucky  lay  within  the  limits  of  Virginia, 
according  to  the  old  charter  of  King  James,,  and  that  state 
accordingly  claimed  for  herself  solely,  the  privilege  of 
purchasing  the  Indian  title  to  lands  lying  within  her  own 
limits. 

She  lost  no  time  therefore,  in  pronouncing  the  treaty 
of  Henderson  null  and  void,  as  it  regarded  his  own  title; 
although,  by  rather  an  exceptionable  process  of  reasoning, 
they  determined  that  it  was  obligatory  upon  the  Indians, 
so  far  as  regarded  the  extinction  of  their  title.  Whether 
or  not  the  reasoning  was  good,  I cannot  pretend  to  say;^ 
but,  supported  as  it  was  by  a powerful  state,  it  was  made 
good,  and  Henderson’s  golden  dreams  completely  vanish- 
ed. He  and  his  associates,  however,  received  a liberal 
grant  of  land  lying  on  Green  river,  as  a compensation  for 
the  expense  and  danger  which  they  had  incurred  in  pros- 
ecuting their  settlement. 

It  was  under  the  auspices  of  Henderson,  that  Boone’s 
next  visit  to  Kentucky  was  made.  Leaving  his  family  on 
Clinch  river,  he  set  out  at  the  head  of  a few  men,  to  mark, 
out  a road  for  the  pack  horses  or  wagons  of  Henderson’s 
party.  This  laborious  and  dangerous  duty,  he  executed 
with  his  usual  patient  fortitude,  until  he  came  within  fif- 
teen miles  of  the  spot  where  Boonesborough  afterwards 
was  built.  Here,  on  the  22nd  of  March,,  his  small  party 
was  attacked  by  the  Indians,  and  suffered  a loss  of  four 
men  killed  and  wounded.  The  Indians,  although  repuls- 
ed, with.  lo§s  in  this  affair,  renewed  the  attack  with  equal, 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


47 


fury  on  the  next  day,  and  killed  and  wounded  five  more 
of  his  party.  On  the  1st  of  April,  the  survivors  began  to 
build  a small  fort  on  the  Kentucky  river,  afterwards  call- 
ed Boonesborough,andon  the  4th,  they  were  again  attacked 
by  the  Indians,  and  lost  another  man.  Notwithstanding 
the  harassing  attacks  to  which  they  were  constantly  ex- 
posed, (for  the  Indians  seemed  enraged  to  madness  at  the 
prospect  of  their  building  houses  on  their  hunting  ground,) 
the  work  was  prosecuted  with  indefatigable  diligence,  and 
on  the  14th  was  completed. 

Boone  instantly  returned  to  Clinch  river  for  his  family, 
determined  to  bring  them  with  him  at  every  risk.  This 
was  done  as  soon  as  the  journey  could  be  performed,  and 
Mrs.  Boone  and  her  daughters  were  the  first  white  women 
who  stood  upon  the  banks  of  the  Kentucky  river,  as  Boone 
himself  had  been  the  first  white  man  who  ever  built  a 
cabin  upon  the  borders  of  the  state.  The  first  house, 
however,  which  ever  stood  in  the  interior  of  Kentucky, 
was  erected  at  Harrodsburgh,  in  the  year  1774,  by  James 
Ilarrod,  w ho  conducted  to  this  place  a party  of  hunters  from 
the  banks  of  the  Monongahela.  This  place  was,  there* 
fore,  a few’  months  older  than  Boonesborough.  Both  soon 
became  distinguished,  as  the  only  places  in  which  hunters 
and  surveyors  could  find  security  from  the  fury  of  the  In- 
dians. 

Within  a few  weeks  after  the  arrival  of  Mrs.  Boone  and 
her  daughters,  the  infant  colony  was  reinforced  by  three 
more  families,,  at  the  head  of  which  w ere  Mrs.  McCary, 
Mrs.  Hogan,  and  Mrs.  Denton.  Boonesborough,. however, 
w as  the  central  object  of  Indian  hostilities,  and  scarcely 
had  his  family  become  domesticated  in  their  new  posses- 
sion, when  they  were  suddenly  attacked  by  a party  of 
Indians,  and  lost  one  of  their  garrison.  This  w*as  on  the. 
24th  of  December,  1775; 

In  the  following  July,  however,  a much  more  alarming 
incident  occurred.  One  of  his  daughters,  in  company 
with  a Miss  Calloway,  were  amusing  themselves  in  the 
immediate  neighborhood  of  the  fort,  wrhen  a party  of  In- 
dians, suddenly  rushed  out  of  a canebrake,  and,  intercept- 
ing theh*  return,. took  them  prisoners.  The  screams  oa, 


is 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


the  terrified  girls  quickly  alarmed  the  family.  The  small 
garrison  was  dispersed  in  their  usual  occupations;  but 
Boone  hastily  collected  a small  party  of  eight  men,  and 
pursued  the  enemy.  So  much  time,  however,  had  been 
lost,  that  the  Indians  had  got  several  miles  the  start  of 
them.  The  pursuit  was  urged  through  the  night  with 
jreat  keenness,  by  woodsmen  capable  of  following  a trail 
at  all  times,  and  on  the  following  day  they  came  up  with 
them. 

The  attack  was  so  sudden  and  furious,  that  the  Indians 
were  driven  from  their  ground  before  they  had  leisure  to 
tomahawk  their  prisoners,  and  the  girls  were  recovered 
without  having  sustained  any  other  injury,  than  excessive 
fright  and  fatigue.  Nothing  but  a barren  outline  of  this 
interesting  occurrence  has  been  given.  We  know  noth- 
ing of  the  conduct  of  the  Indians  to  their  captives,  or  of 
the  situation  of  the  young  ladies  during  the  short  engage- 
ment, and  cannot  venture  to  fill  up  the  outline  from 
imagination.  The  Indians  lost  two  men,  while  Boone’s 
party  was  uninjured. 

From  this  time  until  the  15th  of  April,  1777,  the  garri- 
son was  incessantly  harassed  by  flying  parties  of  Indians. 
While  ploughing  their  corn,  they  were  waylaid  and  shot* 
while  hunting  they  were  chased  and  fired  upon;  and  some- 
times a solitary  Indian  would  creep  up  near  the  fort,  in 
the  night,  and  fire  upon  the  first  of  the  garrison  who  ap- 
peared in  the  morning.  They  were  in  a constant  state  of 
anxiety  and  alarm,  and  the  most  ordinary  duties  could 
only  be  performed  at  the  risk  of  their  lives. 

On  the  15th  of  April,  the  enemy  appeared  in  large 
numbers,  hoping  to  crush  the  infant  settlement  at  a sin- 
gle blow.  Boonesborough,  Logan’s  Fort,  and  Harrods* 
burgh,  were  attacked  at  one  and  the  same  time.  But, 
destitute  as  they  were  of  artillery,  scaling  ladders,  and 
all  the  proper  means  of  reducing  fortified  places,  they 
could  only  distress  the  men,  alarm  the  women,  and  destroy 
the  corn  and  cattle.  Boonesborough  sustained  some  loss, 
as  did  the  other  stations,  but  the  enemy  being  more  ex- 
posed, suffered  so  severely  as  to  retire  with  precipitation. 

No  rest,  however,  was  given  to  the  unhappy  garrison. 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


49 


On  the  4th  of  July  following-,  they  were  again  attacked 
by  two  hundred  warriors,  and  again  repulsed  the  enemy 
with  loss.  The  Indians  retreated;  but  a few  days  after- 
wards, fell  upon  Logan’s  station  with  great  fury,  having 
<sent  detachments  to  alarm  the  other  stations,  so  as  to  pre- 
vent the  appearance  of  reinforcements  to  Logan’s.  In 
this  last  attempt,  they  displayed  great  obstinacy,  and  as  the 
garrison  consisted  only  of  fifteen  men,  they  were  reduced 
to  extremity.  Not  a moment  could  be  allowed  for  sleep. 
Burning  arrows  were  shot  upon  the  roofs  of  the  houses, 
and  the  Indians  often  pressed  boldly  up  to  the  gates,  and 
attempted  to  hew  them  down  with  their  tomahawks.  For- 
tunately, at  this  critical  time,  Colonel  Bowman  arrived 
from  Virginia  with  one  hundred  men,  well  armed,  and  the 
savages  precipitately  withdrew,  leaving  the  garrison  al- 
most exhausted  with  fatigue,  and  reduced  to  twelve  men. 

A brief  period  of  repose  now  followed,  in  which  the  set 
tiers  endeavored  to  repair  the  damages  done  to  their  farms 
But  a period  of  heavy  trial  to  Boone  and  his  family  was 
approaching.  In  January,  1778,  accompanied  by  thirty 
men,  Boone  went  to  the  Blue  Licks  to  make  salt  for  the 
different  stations;  and  on  the  7th  of  February  following, 
while  out  hunting,  he  fell  in  with  one  hundred  and  two 
Indian  warriors,  on  their  march  to  attack  Boonesborough. 
lie  instantly  fled,  but,  being  upwards  of  fifty  years  old, 
was  unable  to  contend  with  the  fleet  young  men  who  pur- 
sued him,  and  was  a second  time  taken  prisoner.  As 
usual,  he  was  treated  with  kindness  until  his  final  fate  was 
determined,  and  was  led  back  to  the  Licks,  where  his  men 
were  still  encamped.  Here  his  whole  party,  to  the  num- 
ber of  twenty  seven,  surrendered  themselves,  upon  prom- 
ise of  life  and  good  treatment,  both  of  which  conditions 
were  faithfully  observed. 

Had  the  Indians  prosecuted  their  enterprise,  they  might 
perhaps,  by  showing  their  prisoners,  and  threatening  to 
put  them  to  the  torture,  have  operated  so  far  upon  the 
sympathies  of  the  garrisons,  as  to  have  obtained  conside- 
rable results.  But  nothing  of  the  kind  was  attempted. 
They  had  already  been  unexpectedly  successful;  and  it  is 
their  custom,  after  good  or  bad  fortune,  immediately  to 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


50 

return  home  and  enjoy  their  triumph,  or  lament  their  ill 
success.  Boone  and  his  party  were  conducted  to  the  old 
town  of  Chillicothe,  where  they  remained  until  the  follow- 
ing March.  No  journal  was  written  during  this  period, 
b}  either  Boone,  or  his  party.  We  are  only  informed  that 
his  mild  and  patient  equanimity,  wrought  powerfully  upon 
the  Indians ; that  he  was  adopted  into  a family,  and  uni- 
formly treated  with  the  utmost  affection.  One  fact  is 
given  us  which  shows  his  acute  observation,  and  knowl- 
edge of  mankind.  At  the  various  shooting  matches  tc 
which  he  was  invited,  he  took  care  not  to  beat  them  toe 
often.  He  knew  that  no  feeling  is  more  gainful  than  that 
of  inferiority,  and  that  the  most  effectual  way  of  keeping 
them  in  a good  humor  with  him , was  to  -keep  them  in  a 
good  humor  with  themselves.  He,  therefore,  only  shot 
well  enough,  to  make  it  an  honor  to  beat  him,  and  found 
himself  an  universal  favorite. 

It  is  much  to  be  regretted,  that  some  of  our  wits  and 
egotists,  of  both  sexes,  could  not  borrow  a little  of  the  sa- 
gacity of  Boone,  and  recollect,  that  when  they  engross  the 
attention  of  the  company,  and  endeavor  most  to  shine,  that 
instead  of  being  agreeable,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  they 
are  only  bores. 

On  the  10th  of  March,  1778,  Boone  was  conducted  to 
Detroit,  when  Governor  Hamilton  himself,  offered  £100 
for  his  ransom;  but  so  strong  was  the  affection  of  the  In- 
dians for  their  prisoner,  that  it  "was  positively  refused. 
Several  English  gentlemen,  touched  with  sympathy  for 
his  misfortunes,  made  pressing  offers  of  money  and  other 
articles,  but  Boone  steadily  refused  to  receive  benefits 
which  he  could  never  return.  The  offer  was  honorable 
to  them,  and  the  refusal  was  dictated  by  rather  too  refined 
a spirit  of  independence.  Boone’s  anxiety  on  account  of 
his  wife  and  children,  was  incessant,  and  the  more  intol- 
erable, as  he  dared  not  excite  the  suspicion  of  the  Indians 
by  any  indication  of  a wish  to  rejoin  them. 

Upon  his  return  from  Detroit,  he  observed  that  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  warriors  of  various  tribes  had  assembled, 
painted  and  equipped  for  an  expedition  against  Boonesbo- 
rough.  His  anxiety  at  this  sight  became  ungovernable, 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


n 

and  he  determined,  at  every  risk,  to  effect  his  escape. 
During  the  whole  of  this  agitating  period,  however,  he 
permitted  no  symptoms  of  anxiety  to  escape  him.  He 
hunted  and  shot  with  them,  as  usual,  until  the  morning  of 
the  16th  of  June,  when,  taking  an  early  start,  he  left  Chil- 
licothe,  and  directed  his  route  to  Boonesborough.  The 
distance  exceeded  one  hundred  and  sixty  miles,  but  he 
performed  it  in  four  days,  during  which  he  ate  only  one 
meal.  He  appeared  before  the  garrison  like  one  risen 
from  the  dead. 

His  wife,  supposing  him  killed,  had  transported  herself, 
children  and  property  to  her  father’s  house,  in  North  Car- 
olina; his  men,  suspecting  no  danger,  were  dispersed  in 
their  onjjnary  avocations,  and  the  works  had  been  per- 
mitted to  go  to  waste.  Not  a moment  was  to  be  lost. 
The  garrison  worked  day  and  night  upon  the  fortifications. 
New  gates,  new  flanks,  and  double  bastions,  were  soon 
completed.  The  cattle  and  horses  were  brought  into  the 
fort,  ammunition  prepared,  and  every  thing  made  ready 
for  the  approach  of  the  enemy  within  ten  days  after  his 
arrival.  At  this  time,  one  of  his  companions  in  captivity 
arrived  from  Chillicothe,  and  announced  that  his  escape 
had  determined  the  Indians  to  delay  the  invasion  for  three 
weeks. 

During  this  interval,  it  was  ascertained  that  numerous 
spies  were  traversing  the  woods  and  hovering  around  the 
station,  doubtless  for  the  purpose  of  observing  and  report- 
ing the  condition  of  the  garrison.  Their  report  could  not 
have  been  favorable.  The  alarm  had  spread  very  gene- 
rally, and  all  were  upon  the  alert.  The  attack  was  de- 
layed so  long,  that  Boone  began  to  suspect  that  they  had 
been  discouraged  by  the  report  of  the  spies;  and  he  de- 
termined to  invade  them.  Selecting  nineteen  men  from 
bis  garrison,  he  put  himself  at  their  head,  and  marched 
with  equal  silence  and  celerity,  against  the  town  of  Paint 
Creek,  on  the  Scioto.  He  arrived,  without  discovery, 
within  four  miles  of  the  town,  and  there  encountered  a 
party  of  thirty  warriors  on  their  march  to  unite  with  the 
grand  army  in  the  expedition  against  Boonesborough. 

Instantly  attacking  them  with  great  spirit,  he  compelled 


§2 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


them  to  give  way  with  some  loss,  and  without  any  injury 
to  himself.  He  then  halted,  and  sent  two  spies  in  ad- 
vance, to  ascertain  the  condition  of  the  village.  In  a few 
hours  they  returned  with  the  intelligence,  that  the  town 
was  evacuated.  He  instantly  concluded  that  the  grand 
army  was  upon  its  march  against  Boonesborough,  whose 
situation,  as  well  as  his  own,  was  exceedingly  critical. 
Retracing  his  steps,  he  marched  day  and  night,  hoping 
still  to  elude  the  enemy,  and  reach  Boonesborough  before 
them.  He  soon  fell  in  with  their  trail,  and  making  a cir- 
cuit to  avoid  them,  he  passed  their  army  on  the  sixth  day 
of  their  march,  and  on  the  seventh  reached  Boonesbo- 
rough. 

On  the  eighth,  the  enemy  appeared  in  great  force. 
There  were  nearly  five  hundred  Indian  warriors,  armed 
and  painted  in  their  usual  manner,  and  what  was  still 
more  formidable,  they  were  conducted  by.  Canadian  offi- 
cers, well  skilled  in  the  usages  of  modern  warfare.  As 
soon  as  they  were  arrayed  in  front  of  the  fort,  the  British 
colors  were  displayed,  and  an  officer,  with  a flag,  was  ser  * 
to  demand  the  surrender  of  the  fort,  with  a promise  of 
quarter  and  good  treatment  in  case  of  compliance,  and 
threatening  “the  hatchet,”  in  case  of  a storm.  Boone 
requested  two  days  for  consideration,  which,  in  defiance  of 
all  experience  and  common  sense,  was  granted.  This 
interval,  as  usual,  was  employed  in  preparation  for  an  ob- 
stinate resistance.  The  cattle  were  brought  into  the  fort, 
the  horses  secured,  and  all  things  made  ready  against  the 
commencement  of  hostilities. 

Boone  then  assembled  the  garrison,  and  represented  to 
them  the  condition  in  which  they  stood.  They  had  not 
now  to  deal  with  Indians  alone,  but  with  British  officers, 
skilled  in  the  art  of  attacking  fortified  places,  sufficiently 
numerous  to  direct , but  too  few  to  restrain  their  savage 
allies.  If  they  surrendered,  their  lives  might  and  proba- 
bly would  be  saved;  but  they  would  suffer  much  inconven 
lence,  and  must  lose  all  their  property.  If  they  resisted, 
and  were  overcome,  the  life  of  every  man,  woman  and 
child  would  be  sacrificed.  The  hour  was  now  come  in 
which  they  were  to  determine  what  was  to  be  done.  If 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


53 


they  were  inclined  to  surrender,  he  would  announce  it  to 
the  officer;  if  they  were  resolved  to  maintain  the  fort,  he 
would  share  their  fate,  whether  in  life  or  death.  He  had 
icarcely  finished,  when  every  man  arose  and  in  a firm 
tone  announced  his  determination  to  defend  the  fort  to  the 
last. 

Boone  then  appeared  at  the  gate  of  the  fortress,  and 
communicated  to  Captain  Duquesne  the  resolution  of  his 
men.  Disappointment  and  chagrin  were  strongly  painted 
upon  the  face  of  the  Canadian  at  this  answer;  but  endeav- 
oring to  disguise  his  feelings,  he  declared  that  Governor 
Hamilton  had  ordered  him  not  to  injure  the  men  if  it  could 
be  avoided,  and  that  if  nine  of  the  principal  inhabitants 
of  the  fort  would  come  out  into  the  plain  and  treat  with 
them,  they  would  instantly  depart  without  farther  hostility. 
The  insidious  nature  of  this  proposal  was  evident,  for  they 
could  converse  very  well  from  where  they  then  stood,  and 
going«out  would  only  place  the  officers  of  the  fort  at  the 
mercy  of  the  savages,  not  to  mention  the  absurdity  of 
supposing  that  this  army  of  warriors  would  “treat”  but 
upon  such  terms  as  pleased  them,  and  no  terms  were  like- 
ly to  do  so,  short  of  a total  abandonment  of  the  country. 

Notwithstanding  these  obvious  objections,  the  word 
u treat,”  sounded  so  pleasantly  in  the  ears  of  the  besieged, 
that  they  agreed  at  once  to  the  proposal,  and  Boone  him- 
self, attended  by  eight  of  his  men,  went  out  and  mingled 
with  the  savages,  who  crowded  around  them  in  great  num- 
bers, and  with  countenances  of  deep  anxiety.  The  treaty 
then  commenced  and  was  soon  concluded.  What  the 
terms  were,  we  are  not  informed,  nor  is  it  a matter  of  the 
least  importance,  as  the  whole  was  a stupid  and  shallow 
artifice.  This  was  soon  made  manifest.  Duquesne,  af- 
ter many,  very  many  pretty  periods  about  the  “ bienfais- 
ance  et  humanite ” which  should  accompany  the  warfare 
of  civilized  beings,  at  length  informed  Boone,  that  it  was 
a custom  with  the  Indians,  upon  the  conclusion  of  a treaty 
with  the  whites,  for  two  warriors  to  take  hold  of  the  hand 
of  each  white  man. 

Boone  thought  this  rather  a singular  custom,  but  there 
was  no  time  to  dispute  about  etiquette,  particularly,  as  he 


$4 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


could  not  be  more  in  their  power  than  he  already  was ; so 
ho  signified  his  willingness  to  conform  to  the  Indian  mode 
of  cementing  friendship.  Instantly,  two  warriors  ap- 
proached each  white  man,  with  the  word  66  brother  n upon 
their  lips,  but  a very  different  expression  in  their  eyes, 
and  grappling  him  with  violence,  attempted  to  bear  him 
off.  They  probably  (unless  totally  infatuated)  expected 
such  a consummation,  and  all  at  the  same  moment  sprung 
from  their  enemies  and  ran  to  the  fort,  under  a heavy  fire, 
which  fortunately  only  wounded  one  man. 

We  look  here  in  vain  for  the  prudence  and  sagacity 
which  usually  distinguished  Boone.  Indeed  there  seems 
to  have  been  a contest  between  him  and  Duquesne,  as  to 
which  should  display  the  greater  quantum  of  shallowness. 
The  plot  itself  was  unworthy  of  a child,  and  the  execution 
beneath  contempt.  For  after  all  this  treachery,  to  per- 
mit his  prisoner  to  escape  from  the  very  midst  of  his  war- 
riors, who  certainly  might  have  thrown  themselves  be- 
tween Boone  and  the  fort,  argues  a poverty  or  timidity, 
on  the  part  of  Duquesne,  truly  despicable. 

The  attack  instantly  commenced  by  a heavy  fire  against 
the  picketing,  and  was  returned  with  fatal  accuracy  by 
the  garrison.  The  Indians  quickly  sheltered  themselves, 
and  the  action  became  more  cautious  and  deliberate.  Find- 
ing but  little  effect  from  the  fire  of  his  men,  Duquesne 
next  resorted  to  a more  formidable  mode  of  attack.  The 
fort  stood  on  the  south  bank  of  the  river,  within  sixty 
yards  of  the  water.  Commencing  under  the  bank,  where 
their  operations  were  concealed  from  the  garrison,  they 
attempted  to  push  a mine  into  the  fort.  Their  object, 
however,  was  fortunately  discovered  by  the  quantity  of 
fresh  earth  which  they  were  compelled  to  throw  into  the 
river,  and  by  which  the  water  became  muddy  for  some  dis- 
tance below.  Boone,  who  had  regained  his  usual  sagacity, 
instantly  cut  a trench  within  the  fort  in  such  a manner  as 
to  intersect  the  line  of  their  approach,  and  thus  frustrated 
their  design. 

The  enemy  exhausted  all  the  ordinary  artifices  of  In- 
dian warfare,  but  were  steadily  repulsed  in  every  effort. 
Finding  their  numbers  daily  thinned  by  the  deliberate 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


55 


but  fatal  fire  of  the  garrison,  and  seeing  no  prospect  of 
final  success,  they  broke  up  on  the  ninth  day  of  the  siege, 
and  returned  home.  The  loss  of  the  garrison,  was  two 
men  killed  and  four  wounded.  On  the  part  of  the  sava- 
ges, thirty-seven  were  killed  and  many  wounded,  who,  as 
usual,  were  all  carried  off.  This  was  the  last  siege  sus- 
tained by  Boonesborough.  The  country  had  increased  so 
rapidly  in  numbers,  and  so  many  other  stations  lay  be- 
tween Boonesborough  and  the  Ohio,  that  the  savages 
could  not  reach  it,  without  leaving  enemies  in  the  rear. 

In  the  autumn  of  this  year,  Boone  returned  to  North 
Carolina  for  his  wife  and  family,  who,  as  already  observ- 
ed, had  supposed  him  dead,  and  returned  to  her  father. 
There  is  a hint  in  Mr.  Marshall’s  history,  that  the  family 
affairs  which  detained  him  in  North  Carolina,  were  of  an 
unpleasant  character,  but  no  explanation  is  given. 

In  the  summer  of  1780,  he  returned  to  Kentucky  with 
his  family  and  settled  at  Boonesborough.  Here  he  con- 
tinued busily  engaged  upon  his  farm  until  the  6th  of  Oc- 
tober, when,  accompanied  by  his  brother,  he  went  to  the 
Lower  Blue  Licks,  for  the  purpose  of  providing  himself 
with  salt.  This  spot  seemed  fatal  to  Boone.  Here,  he 
had  once  been  taken  prisoner  by  the  Indians,  and  here 
he  was  destined,  within  two  years,  to  lose  his  young- 
est son,  and  to  witness  the  slaughter  of  many  of  his  dear- 
est friends.  His  present  visit  was  not  free  from  calamity. 
Upon  their  return,  they  were  encountered  by  a party  of 
Indians,  and  his  brother,  who  had  accompanied  him  faith- 
fully through  many  years  of  toil  and  danger,  was  killed 
and  scalped  before  his  eyes. 

Unable  either  to  prevent  or  avenge  his  death,  Boone 
was  compelled  to  fly,  and  by  his  superior  knowledge  of 
the  country,  contrived  to  elude  his  pursuers.  They  fol- 
lowed his  trail,  however,  by  the  scent  of  a dog,  that 
pressed  him  closely,  and  prevented  his  concealing  himself* 
This  was  one  of  the  most  critical  moments  of  his  life,  but 
his  usual  coolness  and  fortitude  enabled  him  to  meet 
it.  He  halted  until  the  dog,  baying  loudly  upon  his 
trail,  came  within  gunshot,  when  he  deliberately  turned 
and  shot  him  dead.  The  thickness  of  the  woods  aj>d 


56 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


the  approach  of  darkness,  then  enabled  him  to  effect  hii 
escape. 

During  the  following  year,  Boonesborough  enjoyed 
uninterrupted  tranquillity.  The  country  had  become 
comparatively  thickly  settled,  and  was  studded  with  for- 
tresses in  every  direction.  Fresh  emigrants  with  their 
families  were- constantly  arriving;  and  many  young  un- 
married women,  (who  had  heretofore  been  extremely 
scarce,)  had  ventured  to  risk  themselves  in  Kentucky 
They  could  not  have  selected  a spot,  where  their  meri 
was  more  properly  appreciated,  and  were  disposed  of  very 
rapidly  to  the  young  hunters,  most  of  whom  had  hitherto, 
from  necessity,  remained  bachelors.  Thriving  settle- 
ments had  been  pushed  beyond  the  Kentucky  river,  and  a 
number  of  houses  had  been  built  where  Lexington  now 
stands. 

The  year  1781  passed  away  in  perfect  tranquillity,  and 
judging  from  appearances,  nothing  was  more  distant,  than 
the  terrible  struggle  which  awaited  them.  But  during 
the  whole  of  this  year,  the  Indians  were  meditating  a des- 
perate effort,  to  crush  the  settlements  at  a single  blow. 
They  had  become  seriously  alarmed  at  the  tide  of  emigration 
which  rolled  over  the  country,  and  threatened  to  convert 
their  favorite  hunting  ground  into  one  vast  cluster  of  vil- 
lages. The  game  had  already  been  much  dispersed,  the 
settlers  originally  weak  and  scattered  over  the  south  side 
of  the  Kentucky  river,  had  now  become  numerous,  and 
were  rapidly  extending  to  the  Ohio.  One  vigorous  and 
united  effort  might  still  crush  their  enemies,  and  regain 
for  themselves  the  undisputed  possession  of  the  western 
forests. 

A few  renegado  white  men,  were  mingled  with  them, 
and  inflamed  their  w'ild  passions,  by  dwelling  upon  the  in- 
juries which  they  had  ever  sustained  at  the  hands  of  the 
whites,  and  of  the  necessity  for  instant  and  vigorous  ex- 
ertion, or  of  an  eternal  surrender  of  every  hope  either  of 
redress  or  vengeance.  Among  these,  the  most  remarkable 
was  Simon  Girty . Runners  were  despatched  to  most  of 
the  north-western  tribes,  and  all  were  exhorted  to  lay 
aside  private  jealousy,  and  unite  in  a common  cau*« 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


37 

•gainst  these  white  intruders.  In  the  mean  time,  the 
settlers  were  busily  employed  in  opening  farms,  marrying 
and  giving  in  marriage,  totally  ignorant  of  the  storm 
which  was  gathering  upon  the  Lakes. 

In  the  spring  of  1782,  after  a long  interval  of  repose, 
they  were  harassed  by  small  parties,  who  preceded  the 
main  body,  as  the  pattering  and  irregular  drops  of  rain, 
are  the  precursors  of  the  approaching  storm.  In  the 
month  of  May,  a party  of  twenty-five  Wyandotts  secretly 
approached  Estill’s  station,  and  committed  shocking  outra- 
ges in  its  vicinity.  Entering  a cabin  which  stood  apart 
from  the  rest,  they  seized  a woman  and  her  two  daughters, 
who  having  been  violated  with  circumstances  of  savage 
barbarity,  were  tomahawked  and  scalped.  Their  bodies, 
yet  warm  and  bleeding,  were  found  upon  the  floor  of  tire 
cabin.  The  neighborhood  was  instantly  alarmed.  Cap- 
tain Estill  speedily  collected  a body  of  twenty-five  men, 
and  pursued  their  trail  with  great  rapidity.  He  came  up 
with  them  on  Hinkston  fork  of  Licking,  immediately  after 
they  had  crossed  it,  and  a most  severe  and  desperate  con- 
flict ensued. 

The  Indians,  at  first  appeared  daunted  and  began  to  fly, 
but  their  chief,  who  was  badly  wounded  by  the  first  fire, 
was  heard  in  a loud  voice,  ordering  them  to  stand  and  re- 
turn the  fire,  which  was  instantly  obeyed.  The  creek 
ran  between  the  two  parties,  and  prevented  a charge  on 
either  side,  without  the  certainty  of  great  loss.  The  par- 
ties, therefore,  consisting  of  precisely  the  same  number, 
formed  an  irregular  line,  within  fifty  yards  of  each  other, 
and  sheltering  themselves  behind  trees  or  logs,  they  fired 
with  deliberation,  as  an  object  presented  itself.  The  on- 
ly manceuver,  which  the  nature  of  the  ground  permitted, 
was  to  extend  their  lines  in  such  a manner  as  to  uncover 
the  flank  of  the  enemy,  and  even  this  was  extremely  dan- 
gerous, as  every  motion  exposed  them  to  a close  and  dead- 
ly fire. 

The  action,  therefore,  was  chiefly  stationary,  neither 
party  advancing  or  retreating,  and  every  individual  act- 
ing for  himself.  It  had  already  lasted  more  than  an  hour, 
without  advantage  on  either  side,  or  any  prospect  of  its 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


58 

termination.  Captain  Estill  had  lost  one  third  of  his  men, 
and  had  inflicted  about  an  equal  loss  upon  his  enemiea, 
who  still  boldly  maintained  their  ground,  and  returned  his 
fire  with  equal  spirit.  To  have  persevered  in  the  Indian 
mode  of  fighting,  would  have  exposed  his  party  to  certain 
death,,  one  by  one,  unless  all  the  Indians  should  be  killed 
first,  who,  however,  had  at  least  an  equal  chance  with  him- 
self. Even  victory,  bought  at  such  a price,  w'ould  have 
afforded  but  a melancholy  triumph;  yet  it  was  impossible 
to  retreat  or  advance  without  exposing  his  men  to  the 
greatest  danger. 

After  coolly  revolving  these  reflections  in  his  mind,  and 
observing  that  the  enemy  exhibited  no  symptoms  of  dis- 
couragement, Captain  Estill  determined  to  detach  a party 
of  six  men,  under  Lieutenant  Miller,  with  orders  to  cross 
the  creek  above,  and  take  the  Indians  in  flank,  while  he 
maintained  his  ground,  ready  to  co-operate,  as  circumstan- 
ces might  require.  But  he  had  to  deal  with  an  enemy 
equally  bold  and  sagacious.  The  Indian  chief  was  quick- 
ly aware  of  the  division  of  the  force  opposed  to  him,  from 
the  slackening  of  the  fire  in  front,  and  readily  conjectur- 
ing his  object,  he  determined  to  frustrate  it  by  crossing 
the  creek  with  his  whole  force,  and  overwhelming  Estill 
now  weakened  by  the  absence  of  Miller. 

The  manceuver  was  bold  and  masterly,  and  was  execu- 
ted with  determined  courage.  Throwing  themselves  into 
the  water,  they  fell  upon  Estill  with  the  tomahawk,  and 
drove  him  before  them  with  slaughter.  Miller’s  party  re- 
treated with  precipitation,  and  even  lie  under  the  reproach 
of  deserting  their  friends,  and  absconding,  instead  of  oc^ 
cupving  the  designated  ground.  Others  contradict  this 
statement,  and  affirm  that  Miller  punctually  executed  his 
orders,  crossed  the  creek,  and  falling  in  with  the  enemy, 
was  compelled  to  retire  with  loss.  We  think  it  probable, 
that  the  Indians  rushed  upon  Estill,  as  above  mentioned, 
and  having  defeated  him,  recrossed  the  creek  and  attacked 
Miller,  thus  cutting  up  their  enemy  in  detail. 

Estili’s  party  finding  themselves  furiously  charged,  ami 
receiving  no  assistance  from  Miller,  who  was  probably  at 
t&el  time  on  the  other  side  of  the  creek,  in.  the  execution- 


A.NIEL  BOO.NE. 


59 


o£  his  orders,  would  naturally  consider  themselves  deserted, 
and  when  a clamor  of  thai  kind  is  once  raised  against  a 
man,  (particularly  in  a defeat,)  the  voice  of  reason  can  no 
longer  be  heard.  Some  scape-goat  is  always  necessary. 
The  broken  remains  of  the  detachment  returned  to  the 
station,  and  filled  the  country  with  consternation  and 
alarm,  greatly  disproportioned  to  the  extent  of  the  loss. 
The  brave  Estill,  with  eight  of  his  men,  had  fallen,  and 
four  more  were  wounded,  more  than  half  of  their  original 
Qumber. 

This,  notwithstanding  the  smallness  of  the  numbers,  ie 
a very  remarkable  action,  and,  perhaps,  more  honorable  to 
the  Indians  than  any  other  one  on  record.  The  numbers, 
the  arms,  the  courage,  and  the  position  of  the  parties,  were 
equal.  Both  were  composed  of  good  marksmen,  and  skil- 
ful woodsmen.  There  was  no  surprise,  no  panic,  nor  any 
particular  accident,  according  to  the  most  probable  account, 
which  decided  the  action.  A delicate  manceuver,  on  the 
part  of  Estill  gave- an  advantage,  which  was  promptly  seiz- 
ed by  the  Indian  chief,  and  a bold  and  masterly  movement 
decided  the  fate  of  the  day.  The  great  battles  of  Auster- 
litz  and  Wagram  exhibit  the  same  error  on  the  part  of 
one  commander,  and  the  same  decisive  and  successful  step 
on  the  part  of  the  other. 

The  Arch  Duke  Charles  extended  his  line  to  take  the 
French  in  flank,  and  thereby  weakened  his  center,  which 
was  instantly  broken  by  a rapid  charge  of  the  whole 
French  army.  No  movement  seems  more  delicate  and 
dangerous  than  that  of  Estill,  and  the  first  great  check 
which  Bonaparte  received,,  (that  of  Eylau,)  was  chiefly 
occasioned  by  weakening  his  front  in  order  to  assail  the 
enemy  in  rear.  It  requires,  however,  great  boldness  and 
promptitude  in  the  opposite  leader,  to  take  advantage  of 
it.  A cautious  and  wary  leader,  will  be  apt  to  let  the 
golden  opportunity  pass  away,  until  the  detachment  has 
reached  his  flank,  and  it  is  then  too  late.  The  English 
military  critics  censure  our  Washington  for  hesitation  of 
this  kind  at  Brandywine.  They  say,  that  when  the  de- 
tachment of  Cornwallis  was  absent  on  its  marcn  to  take 
tijQ  Americans  in  flank'  Washington  should  haye  crossed; 


60 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


with  his  whole  force,  and  have  fallen  upon  Kniphauson* 
Lee  says,  that  such  a manoeuver  was  contemplated,  bul 
was  prevented  by  false  intelligence. 

The  news  of  Estill’s  disaster  was  quickly  succeeded  by 
another  scarcely  less  startling  to  the  alarmed  settlers 
Captain  Holder,  at  the  head  of  seventeen  men,  pursued  a 
party  of  Indians  who  had  taken  two  boys  from  the  neigh- 
borhood  of  Hoy’s  station.  He  overtook  them  after  a rapid 
pursuit,  and  in  the  severe  action  which  ensued,  was  re- 
pulsed with  the  loss  of  more  than  half  his  party.  The 
tide  of  success  seemed  completely  turned  in  favor  of  the 
Indians.  They  traversed  the  woods  in  every  direction, 
sometimes  singly,  sometimes  in  small  parties,  and  kept  the 
settlers  in  constant  alarm. 

At  length,  early  in  August,  the  grand  effort  was  made. 
The  allied  Indian  army,  composed  of  detachments  from 
nearly  all  the  north-western  tribes,  and  amounting  to  near- 
ly six  hundred  men,  commenced  their  march  from  Chilli- 
cothe,  under  the  command  of  their  respective  chiefs,  aided 
and  influenced  by  Girty,  McKee,  and  other  renegado  white 
men.  With  a secrecy  and  celerity  peculiar  to  themselves, 
they  advanced  through  the  woods  without  giving  the  slight- 
est indications  of  their  approach;  and  on  the  night  of  the 
14th  of  August,  they  appeared  before  Bryant’s  station,  a b 
suddenly  as  if  they  had  risen  from  the  earth,  and  sur- 
rounding it  on  all  sides,  calmly  awaited  the  approach  of 
daylight,  holding  themselves  in  readiness  to  rush  in  upon 
the  inhabitants  the  moment  that  the  gates  were  opened  in 
the  morning.  The  supreme  influence  of  fortune  in  war, 
was  never  more  strikingly  displayed. 

The  garrison  had  determined  to  march  at  daylight  on 
the  following  morning,  to  the  assistance  of  Hoy’s  station, 
from  which  a messenger  had  arrived  the  evening  before, 
with  the  intelligence  of  Holder’s  defeat.  Had  the  Indians 
arrived  only  a few  hours  later,  they  would  have  found  the 
fort  occupied  only  by  old  men,  women  and  children,  who 
could  not  have  resisted  their  attack  for  a moment.  As  it 
was,  they  found  the  garrison  assembled  and  under  arms, 
most  of  them  busily  engaged  throughout  the  whole  nighrt, 
in  preparing  for  an  early  march  on  the  following  morning 


DANIEL  BOONE* 


61 

The  Indians  could  distinctly  hear  the  bustle  of  preparation, 
and  see  lights  glancing  from  block  houses  and  cabins  during 
the  night,  which  must  have  led  them  to  suspect  that  their 
approach  had  been  discovered.  All  continued  tranquil  dur- 
ing the  night,  and  Girty  silently  concerted  the  plan  of 
attack. 

The  fort,  consisting  of  about  forty  cabins  placed  in  par- 
allel lines,  stands  upon  a gentle  rise  on  the  southern  bank 
of  the  Elkhorn,  a few  paces  to  the  right  of  the  road  from 
Maysville  to  Lexington.  The  garrison  was  supplied  with 
water  from  a spring  at  some  distance  from  the  fort  on  its 
north-western  side ; a great  error,  common  to  most  of  the 
stations,  which,  in  a close  and  long  continued  siege,  must 
have  suffered  dreadfully  for  want  of  water. 

The  great  body  of  Indians  placed  themselves  in  ambush 
within  half  rifle  shot  of  the  spring,  while  one  hundred  se- 
lect men  were  placed  near  the  spot  where  the  road  now 
runs  after  passing  the  creek,  with  orders  to  open  a brisk 
fire  and  show  themselves  to  the  garrison  on  that  side,  fbr 
the  purpose  of  drawing  them  out,  while  the  main  body 
held  themselves  in  readiness  to  rush  upon  the  opposite 
gate  of  the  fort,  hew  it  down  with  their  tomahawks,  and 
force  their  way  into  the  midst  of  the  cabins.  At  dawn  of 
day,  the  garrison  paraded  under  arms,  and  were  preparing 
to  open  their  gates  and  march  off  as  already  mentioned, 
when  they  were  alarmed  by  a furious  discharge  of  rifles, 
accompanied  with  yells  and  screams,  which  struck  terror 
to  the  hearts  of  the  women  and  children,  and  startled  even 
the  men. 

All  ran  hastily  to  the  picketing,  and  beheld  a small  par- 
ty of  Indians,  exposed  to  open  view,  firing,  yelling,  and 
making  the  most  furious  gestures.  The  appearance  was 
so  singular,  and  so  different  from  their  usual  manner  of 
fighting,  that  some  of  the  more  wary  and  experienced  of 
the  garrison  instantly  pronounced  it  a decoy  party,  and 
restrained  the  young  men  from  sallying  out  and  attacking 
them,  as  some  of  them  were  strongly  disposed  to  do.  The 
opposite  side  of  the  fort  was  instantly  manned,  and  seve- 
ral breaches  in  the  picketing  rapidly  repaired.  Their 
greatest  distress  arose  from  the  prospect  of  suffering  for 


62 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


water.  The  more  experienced  of  the  garrison  felt  satis- 
fied that  a powerful  party  was  in  ambuscade  near  tho 
spring,  but  at  the  same  time  they  supposed  that  the  In- 
dians would  not  unmask  themselves,  until  the  firing  upon 
the  opposite  side  of  the  fort  was  returned  with  such  warmth, 
as  to  induce  the  belief  that  the  feint  had  succeeded. 

Acting  upon  this  impression,  and  yielding  to  the  urgent 
necessity  of  the  case,  they  summoned  all  the  women,  with- 
out exception,  and  explaining  to  them  the  circumstances 
in  which  they  were  placed,  and  the  improbability  that  any 
injury  would  be  offered  them,  until  the  firing  had  been  re- 
turned from  the  opposite  side  of  the  fort,,  they  urged  them 
to  go  in  a body  to  the  spring,  and  each  to  bring  up  a buck- 
et full  of  water.  Some  of  the  ladies,  as  was  natural,  had 
no  relish  for  the  undertaking,  and  asked  why  the  men 
could  not  bring  water  as  well  as  themselves?  observing 
that  they  were  not  bullet-proof,  and  that  the  Indians  made 
no  distinction  between  male  and  female  scalps ! 

To  this  it  was  answered,  that  women  were  in  the  habit 
of  bringing  water  every  morning  to  the  fort,  and  that  if 
the  Indians  saw  them  engaged  as  usual,  it  would  induce 
them  to  believe  that  their  ambuscade  was  undiscovered* 
and  that  they  would  not  unmask  themselves  for  the  sake 
of  firing  at  a few  women,  when  they  hoped,  by  remaining 
concealed  a few  moments  longer,  to  obtain  complete  pos- 
session of  the  fort.  That  if  men  should  go  down  to  the 
spring,  the  Indians  would  immediately  suspect  that  some 
thing  was  wrong,  would  despair  of  succeeding  by  ambus 
cade,  and  would  instantly  rush  upon  them,  follow  them  into 
the  fort,,  or  shoot  them  down  at  the  spring.  The  decision 
was  soon  over* 

A few  of  the  boldest  declared  their  readiness  to  brave 
the  danger,  and  the  younger  and  more  timid  rallying  in 
the  rear  of  these  veterans,  they  all  marched  down  in  a 
body  to  the  spring,  within  point  blank  shot  of  more  than 
five  hundred  Indian  warriors  t Some  of  the  girls  could  not 
help  betraying  symptoms  of  terror,  but  the  married  women,, 
in  general,  moved  with  a steadiness  and  composure,  which 
completely  deceived  the  Indians.  Not  a shot  was  fired. 
The  party  were  permitted  to  fill  their  buckets,  one  aftea 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


03 


another,  without  interruption,  and  although  their  steps  be* 
came  quicker  and  quicker,  on  their  return,  and  when  near 
the  gate  of  the  fort,  degenerated  into  a rather  unmilitary  ce- 
lerity,- attended  with  some  little  crowding  in  passing  the 
gate,  yet  not  more  than  one-fifth  of  the  water  was  spilled, 
and  the  eyes  of  the  youngest  had  not  dilated  to  more  than 
double  their  ordinary  size. 

Beifig  now  amply  supplied  with  water,  they  sent  out 
thirteen  young  men  to  attack  the  decoy  party,  with  orders 
to  fire  with  great  rapidity,  and  make  as  much  noise  as  pos- 
sible, but  not  to  pursue  the  enemy  too  far,  while  the  rest 
of  the  garrison  took  post  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fort, 
cocked  their  guns,  and  stood  in  readiness  to  receive  th® 
ambuscade  as  soon  as  it  was  unmasked.  The  firing  of  the 
light  parties  on  the  Lexington  road  was  soon  heard,  and 
quickly  became  sharp  and  serious,  gradually  becoming 
more  distant  from  the  fort.  Instantly,  Girty  sprung  up  at 
the  head  of  his  five  hundred  warriors,  and  rushed  rapidly 
upon  the  western  gate,  ready  to  force  his  way  over  the  un- 
defended palisades.  Into  this  immense  mass  of  dusky 
bodies,  the  garrison  poured  several  rapid  volleys  of  rifle 
bails  with  destructive  effect.  Their  consternation  may  he 
imagined.  With  wild  cries  they  dispersed  on  the  right 
and  left,  and  in  two  minutes  not  an  Indian  was  to  be  seen. 
At  the  same  time,  the  party  who  had  sallied  out  on  the 
Lexington  road,  came  running  into  the  fort  at  the  opposite 
gate,  in  high  spirits,,  and  laughing  heartily  at  the  success 
of  their  manoeuvre. 

A regular  attack,,  in  the  usual  manner,  then  commenced, 
without  much  effect  on  either  side,,  until  two  o’clock  in  the 
afternoon,  when  a new  scene  presented  itself.  Upon  the 
first  appearance  of  the  Indians  in  the  morning,  two  of  the 
garrison,  Tomlinson  and  Bell.?  had  been  mounted  upon  fleet 
horses,  and  sent  at  full  speed  to  Lexington,  announcing  the 
arrival  of  the  Indians  and  demanding  reinforcements.  Up*- 
on  their  arrival,  a little  after  sunrise,  they  found  the  town 
occupied  only  by  women  and  children,  and  a few  old  men, 
the  rest  having  marched  at  the  intelligence  of  Holder’? 
defeat,  to  the  general  rendezvous  at  Hoy’s  station.  The 
two  couriers  instantly  followed  at  a gallop,,  and  overtaking 


*4 


WESTER!*  ADVElfTURE. 


them  on  the  road,  informed  them  of  the  danger  to  which 
Lexington  was  exposed  during  their  absence. 

The  whole  party,  amounting  to  sixteen  horsemen  and 
more  than  double  that  number  on  foot,  with  some  additional 
volunteers  from  Boone’s  station,  instantly  countermarched, 
and  repaired  with  all  possible  expedition  to  Bryant’s  sta- 
tion. They  were  entirely  ignorant  of  the  overwhelming 
numbers  opposed  to  them,  or  they  would  have  proceeded 
with  more  caution.  Tomlinson  had  only  informed  them 
tfiat  the  station  was  surrounded,  being  himself  ignorant  of 
the  numbers  of  the  enemy.  By  great  exertions,  horse 
and  foot  appeared  before  Bryant’s  at  two  in  the  afternoon* 
and  pressed  forward  with  precipitate  gallantry  to  throw 
themselves  into  the  fort.  The  Indians,  however,  had  been 
aware  of  the  departure  of  the  two  couriers,  who  had,  in 
fact,  broken  through  their  line  in  order  to  give  the  alarm* 
and  expecting  the  arrival  of  reinforcements,  had  taken 
measures  to  meet  them. 

To  the  left  of  the  long  and  narrow  lane,  where  the  Maya- 
▼ille  and  Lexington  road  now  runs,  there  were  more  than 
one  hundred  acres  of  green  standing  corn.  The  usual 
road  from  Lexington  to  Bryant’s,  ran  parallel  to  the  fence 
of  this  field,  and  only  a few  feet  distant  from  it.  On  tho 
opposite  side  of  the  road  was  a thick  wood.  Here,  more 
than  three  hundred  Indians  lay  in  ambush,  within  pistol 
shot  of  the  road,  awaiting  the  approach  of  the  party.  The 
horsemen  came  in  view  at  a time  when  the  firing  had 
ceased  and  every  thing  was  quiet.  Seeing  no  enemy,  and 
hearing  no  noise,  they  entered  the  lane  at  a gallop,  and 
were  instantly  saluted  with  a shower  of  rifle  balls,  from 
each  side,  at  the  distance  of  ten  paces. 

At  the  first  shot,  the  wLole  party  set  spurs  to  their 
horses,  and  rode  at  full  speed  through  a rolling  fire  from 
either  side,  which  continued  for  several  hundred  yards,  bui 
owing  partly  to  the  furious  rate  at  which  they  rode,  partly 
to  the  clouds  of  dust  raised  by  the  horses’  feet,  they  all 
entered  the  fort  unhurt.  The  men  on  foot  were  less  for* 
tunate.  They  were  advancing  through  the  corn-field,  and 
might  have  reached  the  fort  in  safety,  but  for  their  eager- 
ness to  succor  their  friends.  Without  reflecting,  that  fkm 


DANIEL  BOONE, 


65 

the  weight  and  extent  of  the  fire,  the  enemy  must  have 
been  ten  times  their  number,  they  ran  up  with  inconsiderate 
courage,  to  the  spot  where  the  firing  was  heard,  and  there 
found  themselves  cut  off  from  ihe  fort,  and  within  pistol 
shot  of  more  than  three  hundred  savages. 

Fortunately  the  Indian  guns  had  just  been  discharged, 
and  they  had  not  yet  had  leisure  to  re-load.  At  the  sight 
of  this  brave  body  of  footmen,  however,  they  raised  a 
hideous  yell,  and  rushed  upon  them,  tomahawk  in  hand. 
Nothing  but  the  high  corn  and  their  loaded  rifles,  could 
have  saved  them  from  destruction.  The  Indians  were  cau- 
tious in  rushing  upon  a loaded  rifle,  with  only  a tomahawk, 
and  when  they  halted  to  load  their  pieces,  the  Kentucki- 
ans ran  with  great  rapidity,  turning  and  dodging  through 
the  corn  in  every  direction.  Some  entered  the  wrood  and 
escaped  through  the  thickets  of  cane,  some  were  shot  down 
in  the  corn-field,  others  maintained  a running  fight,  halting 
occasionally  behind  trees  and  keeping  the  enemy  at  bay 
with  their  rifles;  for,  of  all  men,  the  Indians  are  generally 
the  most  cautious  in  exposing  themselves  to  danger.  A 
stout,  active  young  fellow,  was  so  hard  pressed  by  Girty 
and  several  savages,  that  he  was  compelled  to  discharge 
his  rifle,  (however  unwilling,  having  no  time  to  re-load  it,) 
and  Girty  fell. 

It  happened,  however,  that  a piece  of  thick  sole-leather 
was  in  his  shot-pouch  at  the  time,  which  reqeived  the  ball, 
and  preserved  his  life,  although  the  force  of  the  blow  felled 
him  to  the  ground.  The  savages  halted  upon  his  fall,  and 
the  young  man  escaped.  Although  the  skirmish  and  the 
race  lasted  for  more  than  an  hour,  during  which  the  corn- 
field presented  a scene  of  turmoil  and  bustle  which  can 
scarcely  be  conceived,  yet  very  few  lives  were  lost.  Only 
•ix  of  the  white  men  were  killed  and  wounded,  and  proba- 
bly still  fewer  of  the  enemy,  as  the  whites  never  fired  un- 
til absolutely  necessary,  but  reserved  their  loads  as  a check 
upon  the  enemy.  Had  the  Indians  pursued  them  to  Lex- 
ington, they  might  have  possessed  themselves  of  it  without 
resistance,  as  there  was  no  force  there  to  oppose  them;  but 
after  following  the  fugitives  for  a few  hundred  yards,  they 
returned  to  the  hopeless  siege  of  the  fort. 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


It  was  now  near  sunset,  and  the  fire  on  both  sides  had 
slackened.  The  Indians  had  become  discouraged.  Their 
loss  in  the  morning  had  been  heavy,  and  the  country  was 
evidently  arming,  and  would  soon  be  upon  them.  They 
had  made  no  impression  upon  the  fort,  and  without  artil- 
lery could  hope  to  make  none.  The  chiefs  spoke  of  rais- 
ing the  siege  and  decamping;  but  Girty  determined,  since 
kis  arms  ha.d  been  unavailing,  to  try  the  efficacy  of  negotia- 
tion. Near  one  of  the  bastions  there  was  a large  stump, 
to  which  he  crept  on  his  hands  and  knees,  and  from  which 
he  hailed  the  garrison. 

He  highly  commended  their  courage,  but  assured  them, 
that  further  resistance  would  be  madness,  as  he  had  six 
hundred  warriors  with  him,  and  was  in  hourly  expectation 
of  reinforcements,  with  artillery,  which  would  instantly 
blow  their  cabins  into  the  air;  that  if  the  fort  was  taken 
by  storm,  as  it  certainly  would  be,  when  their  cannon  ar- 
rived, it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  save  their  lives; 
but  if  they  surrendered  at  once,  he  gave  them  his  honor, 
that  not  a hair  of  their  head  should  be  injured.  He  told 
them  his  name,  inquired  whether  they  knew  him,  and  as- 
sured them,  that  they  might  safely  trust  to  his  honor. 

The  garrison  listened  in  silence  to  his  speech,  and  many 
ef  them  looked  very  blank  at  the  mention  of  the  artillery, 
as  the  Indians  had,  on  one  occasion,  brought  cannon  with 
them,  and  destroyed  two  stations.  But  a young  man  by 
the  name  of* Reynolds,  highly  distinguished  for  courage, 
energy,  and  a frolicsome  gaiety  of  temper,  perceiving  the 
effect  of  Girty ’s  speech,  took  uporliiimself  to  reply  to  it 

To  Girty’s  inquiry,  “whether  the  garrison  knew  him-?” 
Reynolds  replied,  “That  he  was  very  well  known;  that 
he  himself  had  a worthless  dog,  to  which  he  had  given  the 
name  of  6 Simon  Girty,’  in  consequence  of  his  striking  re- 
semblance to  the  man  of  that  name ; that  if  he  had  either 
artillery  or  reinforcements,  he  might  bring  them  up  and 
be  d — d ; that  if  either  himself,  or  any  of  the  naked  rascals 
with  him,  found  their  way  into  the  fort,  they  would  disdain 
to  use  their  guns  against  them,  but  would  drive  them  out 
again  with  switches,  of  which  they  had  collected  a great 
number  for  that  purpose  alone;  and  finally,  he  declared* 


DANIEL  BOONE, 


67 


that  they  also  expected  reinforcements;  that  the  whole 
country  was  marching  to  their  assistance ; and  that  if  Girty 
and  his  gang  of  murderers  remained  twenty-four  hour* 
longer  before  the  fort,  their  scalps  would  be  found  drying 
in  the  sun  upon  the  roofs  of  their  cabins.” 

Girty  took  great  offence  at  the  tone  and  language  of  the 
young  Kentuckian,  and  retired  with  an  expression  of  sor- 
row for  the  inevitable  destruction  which  awaited  them  on 
the  following  morning.  He  quickly  rejoined  the  chiefs; 
and  instant  preparations  were  made  for  raising  the  siege. 
The  night  passed  away  in  uninterrupted  tranquillity,  and 
at  daylight  in  the  morning,  the  Indian  camp  was  found 
deserted.  Fires  were  still  burning  brightly,  and  several 
pieces  of  meat  were  left  upon  their  roasting  sticks,  from 
which  it  was  inferred  that  they  had  retreated  a short  time 
before  daylight. 

Early  in  the  day,  reinforcements  began  to  drop  in,  and 
by  noon,  one  hundred  and  sixty-seven  men  were  assem- 
bled at  Bryant’s  station.  Colonel  Daniel  Boone,  accom- 
panied by  his  youngest  son,  headed  a strong  party  from 
Boonesborough ; Trigg  brought  up  the  force  from  the 
neighborhood  of  Harrodsburgh,  and  Todd  commanded  the 
rnilitia  around  Lexington.  Nearly  a third  of  the  whole 
number  assembled,  was  composed  of  commissioned  offi- 
cers, who  hurried  from  a distance  to  the  scene  of  hostilities, 
and  for  the  time  took  their  station  in  the  ranks.  Of  those 
under  the  rank  of  colonel,  the  most  conspicuous  were, 
Majors  Harland,  McBride,  McGary,  and  Levy  Todd,  and 
Captains  Bulger  and  Gordon.  Of  the  six  last  named  offi- 
cers, all  fell  in  the  subsequent  battle,  except  Todd  and 
McGary.  Todd  and  Trigg,  as  senior  colonels,  took  the 
command,  although  their  authority  seems  to  have  been  in 
a great  measure  nominal.  That,  however,  was  of  less 
consequence,  as  a sense  of  common  danger  is  often  more 
Dinding  than  the  strictest  discipline. 

A tumultuous  consultation,  in  which  every  one  seems 
to  have  had  a voice,  terminated  in  an  unanimous  resolu- 
tion to  pursue  the  enemy  without  delay.  It  was  well 
known  that  General  Logan  had  collected  a strong  force  in 
Lincoln,  and  would  join  them  at  farthest  in  twenty-four 


66 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


hours.  It  was  distinctly  understood  that  the  enemy  was 
at  least  double,  and,  according  to  Girty’s  account,  more 
than  treble  their  own  numbers.  It  was  seen  that  their 
trail  was  broad  and  obvious,  and  that  even  some  indications 
of  a tardiness  and  willingness  to  be  pursued,  had  been  ob- 
served by  their  scouts,  who  had  been  sent  out  to  recon- 
noiter,  and  from  which  it  might  reasonably  be  inferred  that 
they  would  halt  on  the  way,  at  least  march  so  leisurely, 
as  to  permit  them  to  wait  for  the  aid  of  Logan!  Yet  so 
keen  was  the  ardor  of  officer  and  soldier,  that  all  these  ob- 
vious reasons  were  overlooked,  and  in  the  afternoon  of  the 
18th  of  August,  the  line  of  march  was  taken  up,  and  the 
pursuit  urged  with  that  precipitate  courage  which  has  so  of 
ten  been  fatal  to  Kentuckians.  Most  of  the  officers  and 
many  of  the  privates  were  mounted. 

The  Indians  had  followed  the  buffalo  trace,  and  as  if  to 
render  their  trail  still  more  evident,  they  had  chopped  ma- 
ny of  the  trees  on  each  side  of  the  road  with  their  hatch- 
ets. These  strong  indications  of  tardiness,  made  some 
impression  upon  the  cool  and  calculating  mind  of  Boone 
but  it  was  too  late  to  advise  retreat.  They  encamped 
that  night  in  the  woods,  and  on  the  following  day  reached 
the  fatal  boundary  of  their  pursuit!  At  the  Lower  Blue 
Licks,  for  the  first  time  since  the  pursuit  commenced,  they 
came  within  view  of  an  enemy.  As  the  miscellaneous 
crowd  of  horse  and  foot  reached  the  southern  bank  of  Lick- 
ing, they  saw  a number  of  Indians  ascending  the  rocky 
ridge  on  the  other  side. 

They  halted  upon  the  appearance  of  the  Kentuckian*, 
gazed  at  them  for  a few  moments  in  silence,  and  then  calm- 
ly and  leisurely  disappeared  over  the  top  of  the  hill.  A 
halt  immediately  ensued.  A dozen  or  twenty  officers  met 
in  front  of  the  ranks,  and  entered  into  consultation.  The 
wild  and  lonely  aspect  of  the  country  around  them,  their 
distance  from  any  point  of  support,  with  the  certainty  of 
their  being  in  the  presence  of  a superior  enemy,  seems  to 
have  inspired  a portion  of  seriousness,  bordering  upon  awe. 
All  eyes  were  now  turned  upon  Boone,  and  Colonel  Todd 
asked  his  opinion  as  to  what  should  be  done.  The  veteran 
woodsman,  with  hi*  usual  unmoved  gravity,  replied: 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


09 


That  their  situation  was  critical  and  delicate ; that  the 
force  opposed  to  them  was  undoubtedly  numerous  and  ready 
for  battle,  as  might  readily  be  seen  from  the  leisurely  re- 
treat of  the  few  Indians  who  had  appeared  upon  the  crest 

!of  the  hill;  that  he  wras  well  acquainted  with  the  ground 
in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Lick,  and  was  apprehensive 
that  an  ambuscade  was  formed  at  the  distance  of  a mile  in 
advance,  where  two  ravines,  one  upon  each  side  of  the 
ridge,  ran  in  such  a manner,  that  a concealed  enemy  might 
assail  them  at  once  both  in  front  and  flank,  before  they 
were  apprised  of  the  danger. 

“ It  would  be  proper,  therefore,  to  do  one  of  two  things. 
Either  to  await  the  arrival  of  Logan,  who  was  now  un- 
doubtedly on  his  march  to  join  them,  or  if  it  was  determin- 
ed to  attack  without  delay,  that  one  half  of  their  number 
should  march  up  the  river,  which  there  bends  in  an  ellip- 
tical form,  cross  at  the  rapids  and  fall  upon  the  rear  of 
the  enemy,  while  the  other  division  attacked  in  front.  At 
any  rate,  he  strongly  urged  the  necessity  of  reconnoiter- 
ing  the  ground  carefully  before  the  main  body  crossed  the 
river.” 

Such  was  the  counsel  of  Boone.  And  although  no 
measure  could  have  been  much  more  disastrous  than  that 
which  was  adopted,  yet  it  may  be  doubted  if  any  thing 
short  of  an  immediate  retreat  upon  Logan,  could  have  saved 
this  gallant  body  of  men  from  the  fate  which  they  encoun- 
tered. If  they  divided  their  force,  the  enemy,  as  in  Es- 
till’s  case,  might  have  overwhelmed  them  in  detail ; if  they 
remained  where  they  were,  without  advancing,  the  enemy 
would  certainly  have  attacked  them,  probably  in  the  night, 
and  with  a certainty  of  success.  They  had  committed  a 
great  error  at  first,  in  not  waiting  for  Logan,  and  nothing 
short  of  a retreat,  which  would  have  been  considered  dis- 
graceful, could  now  repair  it. 

Boone  was  heard  in  silence  and  with  deep  attention. 
Some  wished  to  adopt  the  first  plan;  others  preferred  "the 
second;  and  the  discussion  threatened  to  be  drawn  out  to 
•ome  length,  when  the  boiling  ardor  of  McGary,  who  could 
never  endure  the  presence  of  an  enemy  without  instant 
battle,  stimulated  him  to  an  act,  which  had  nearly  proved 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


n 

destructive  to  his  country.  He  suddenly  interrupted  the 
consultation  with  a loud  whoop,  resembling  the  war-cry  of 
the  Indians,  spurred  his  horse  into  the  stream,  waved  his 
hat  over  his  head,  and  shouted  aloud : u Let  all  who  are 
not  cowards  follow  me ! ” The  words  and  the  action  to- 
gether, produced  an  electrical  effect.  The  mounted  men 
dashed  tumultuously  into  the  river,  each  striving  to  be 
foremost.  The  footmen  wrere  mingled  with  them  in  one 
rolling  and  irregular  mass. 

No  order  was  given,  and  none  observed.  They  strug- 
gled through  a deep  ford  as  well  as  they  could,  McGary 
still  leading  the  van,  closely  followed  by  Majors  Harland 
and  McBride.  With  the  same  rapidity  they  ascended  the 
ridge,  which,  by  the  trampling  of  buffalo  foragers,  had  been 
stripped  bare  of  all  vegetation,  with  the  exception  of  a few 
dwarfish  cedars,  and  which  was  rendered  still  more  deso- 
late in  appearance,  by  the  multitude  of  rocks,  blackened 
by  the  sun,  which  were  spread  over  its  surface.  Upon 
reaching  the  top  of  the  ridge,  they  followed  the  buffalo 
trace  with  the  same  precipitate  ardor;  Todd  and  Trigg  in 
the  rear;  McGary,  Harland,  McBride,  and  Bocne  in  front 
No  scouts  were  sent  in  advance;  none  explored  either 
flank;  officers  and  soldiers  seemed  alike  demented  by  the 
contagious  example  of  a single  man,  and  all  struggled  for- 
ward, horse  and  foot,  as  if  to  outstrip  each  other  in  the 
advance. 

Suddenly,  the  van  halted.  They  had  reached  the  spot 
mentioned  by  Boone,  where  the  two  ravines  head,  on  each 
side  of  the  ridge.  Here  a body  of  Indians  presented  them- 
selves, and  attacked  the  van.  McGary’s  party  instantly 
returned  the  fire,  but  under  great  disadvantage.  They 
were  upon  a bare  and  open  ridge;  the  Indians  in  a bushy 
ravine.  The  center  and  rear,  ignorant  of  the  ground,  hur- 
ried  up  to  the  assistance  of  the  van,  but  were  soon  stop- 
ped by  a terrible  fire  from  the  ravine  which  flanked  them. 
They  found  themselved  enclosed  as  if  in  the  wings  of  a 
net,  destitute  of  proper  shelter,  while  the  enemy  were  in 
a great  measure  covered  from  their  fire.  Still,  however, 
they  maintained  their  ground.  The  action  became  warm 
and  bloody.  The  parties  gradually  closed,  the  Indians 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


71 

emerged  from  the  ravine,  and  the  fire  became  mutually 
destructive.  The  officers  suffered  dreadfully.  Todd  and 
Trigg,  in  the  rear;  Harland,  McBride,  and  young  Boone* 
in  front,  were  already  killed. 

The  Indians  gradually  extended  their  line,  to  turn  the 
right  of  the  Kentuckians,  and  cut  off  their  retreat.  This 
was  quickly  perceived  by  the  weight  of  the  tire  from  that 
quarter,  and  the  rear  instantly  fell  back  in  disorder,  and 
attempted  to  rush  through  their  only  opening  to  the  river. 
The  motion  quickly  communicated  itself  to  the  van,  and  a 
hurried  retreat  became  general.  The  Indians  instantly 
sprung  forward  in  pursuit,  and  falling  upon  them  with  their 
tomahawks,  made  a cruel  slaughter.  From  the  battle 
ground  to  the  river,  the  spectacle  was  terrible.  The 
horsemen  generally  escaped,  but  the  foot,  particularly  the 
van,  which  had  advanced  farthest  within  the  wings  of  the 
net,  wore  almost  totally  destroyed.  Colonel  Boone,  after 
witnessing  the  death  of  his  son  and  many  of  his  dearest 
friends,  found  himself  almost  entirely  surrounded  at  tha 
very  commencement  of  the  retreat. 

Several  hundred  Indians  were  between  him  and  the  ford, 
to  w hich  the  great  mass  of  the  fugitives  were  bending  their 
flight,  and  to  which  the  attention  of  the  savages  was  prim- 
cipally  directed.  Being  intimately  acquainted  with  th® 
ground,  he,  together  with  a few  friends,  dashed  into  th® 
ravine  wffiich  the  Indians  had  occupied,  but  which  most  of 
them  had  now  left  to  join  in  the  pursuit.  After  sustain- 
ing one  or  tw^o  heavy  fires,  and  baffling  one  or  tw7o  small 
parties,  who  pursued  him  for  a short  distance,  he  crossed 
the  river  below  the  ford,  by  swimming,  and  entering  the 
wood  at  a point  where  there  w7as  no  pursuit,  returned  by  a 
circuitous  route  to  Bryant’s  station.  In  the  mean  time, 
the  great  mass  of  the  victors  and  vanquished  crowded  the 
tank  of  the  ford. 

The  slaughter  was  great  in  the  river.  The  ford  was 
crowded  with  horsemen  and  foot  and  Indians,  all  mingled 
together.  Some  were  compelled  to  seek  a passage  above 
by  swimming;  some,  who  could  not  swim,  were  overtaken 
and  killed  at  the  edge  of  the  water.  A man  by  the  nam® 
Netherland,  who  had  formerly  been  strongly  suspected 


72 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


of  cowardice,  here  displayed  a coolness  and  presence  of 
mind,  equally  noble  and  unexpected.  Being  finely  moun  * 
ad  he  had  outstripped  the  great  mass  of  fugitives,  and 
crossed  the  river  in  safety.  A dozen  or  twenty  horsemen 
accompanied  him,  and  having  placed  the  river  between 
them  and  the  enemy,  showed  a disposition  to  continue 
their  flight,  without  regard  to  the  safety  of  their  friend* 
who  were  on  foot,  end  still  struggling  with  the  current. 

Netherland  instantly  checked  his  horse-  and  in  a loud 
voice,  called  upon  his  companions  to  halt,  fire  upon  the  In- 
dians, and  save  those  who  were  still  in  the  stream.  The 
party  instantly  obeyed;  and  facing  about,  poured  a close 
and  fatal  discharge  of  rifles  upon  the  foremost  of  the  pur- 
suers. The  enemy  instantly  fell  back  from  the  opposite 
bank,  and  gave  time  for  the  harassed  and  miserable  foot- 
men to  cross  in  safety.  The  check,  however,  was  but 
momentary.  Indians  were  seen  crossing  in  great  numbers 
above  and  belowT,  and  the  flight  again  became  general. 
Most  of  the  foot  left  the  great  buffalo  track,  and  plunging 
into  the  thickets,  escaped  by  a circuitous  route  to  Bryant’s 
station. 

But  little  loss  was  sustained  after  crossing  the  river,  al- 
though the  pursuit  was  urged  keenly  for  twenty  miles. 
From  the  battle  ground  to  the  ford,  the  loss  was  very 
hefovy;  and  at  that  stage  of  the  retreat,  there  occurred  a 
rare  and  striking  instance  of  magnanimity,  which  it  would 
be  criminal  to  omit.  The  reader  could  not  have  forgotten 
young  Reynolds,  who  replied  with  such  rough  but  ready 
humor  to  the  pompous  summons  of  Girty,  at  the  siege  of 
Bryant’s.  This  young  man,  after  bearing  his  share  in 
the  action  with  distinguished  gallantry,  was  galloping  with 
*everal  other  horsemen  in  order  to  reach  the  ford.  Tha 
great  body  of  fugitives  had  preceded  them,  and  their  situ- 
ation was  in  the  highest  degree  critical  and  dangerous. 

About  half  way  between  the  battle-ground  and  the  river, 
the  party  overtook  Captain  Patterson,  on  foot,  exhausted 
by  the  rapidity  of  the  flight,  and  in  consequence  of  formei 
wounds  received  from  the  Indians,  so  infirm  as  to  be  una- 
ble to  keep  up  with  the  main  body  of  the  men  on  foot. 
Tha  Indian*  were  close  behind  him,  and  his  fate  seemed 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


73 

inevitable.  Reynolds,  upon  coming  up  with  this  brave  of- 
ficer, instantly  sprung  from  his  horse,  aided  Patterson  tx> 
mount  into  the  saddle,  and  continued  his  own  llight  on 
foot.  Being  remarkably  active  and  vigorous,  he  contrived 
to  elude  his  pursuers,  and  turning  off  from  the  main  road, 
plunged  into  the  river  near  the  spot  where  Boone  had 
crossed,  and  swam  in  safety  to  the  opposite  side.  Unfor- 
tunately, he  wTore  a pair  of  buckskin  breeches,  which  had 
become  so  heavy  and  full  of  water  as  to  prevent  his  ex 
erting  himself  with  his  usual  activity,  and  while  sitting 
down  for  the  purpose  of  pulling  them  off,  he  was  overta- 
ken by  a party  of  Indians,  and  made  prisoner. 

A prisoner  is  rarely  put  to  death  by  the  Indians,  unleg» 
wounded  or  infirm,  until  they  return  to  their  own  country; 
and  then  his  fate  is  decided  in  solemn  council.  Young 
Reynolds,  therefore,  was  treated  kindly,  and  compelled  to 
accompany  his  captors  in  the  pursuit.  A small  party  of 
Kentuckians,  soon  attracted  their  attention;  and  he  wai 
left  in  charge  of  three  Indians,  who,  eager  in  pursuit,  in 
turn  committed  him  to  the  charge  of  one  of  their  number, 
while  they  followed  their  companions.  Reynolds  and  hi# 
guard  jogged  atang  very  leisurely;  the  former  totally  un- 
armed ; the  latter,  with  a tomahawk  and  rifle  in  his  handa. 
At  length  the  Indian  stopped  to  tie  his  moccasin,  when 
Reynolds  instantly  sprung  upon  him,  knocked  him  down 
with  his  fist,  and  quickly  disappeared  in  the  thicket  which 
surrounded  them.  For  this  act  of  generosity,  Captain 
Patterson  afterwards  made  him  a present  of  two  hundred 
acres  of  first  rate  land. 

Late  in  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  most  of  the  survi- 
vors arrived  at  Bryant’s  station.  The  melancholy  intelli- 
gence spread  rapidly  throughout  the  country,  and  the  whole 
land  was  covered  with  mourning.  Sixty  men  had  been 
killed  in  the  battle  and  flight,  and  seven  had  been  taken 
prisoners,  part  of  whom  were  afterwards  puf  to  death  by 
the  Indians,  as  wTas  said,  to  make  their  loss  even.  This 
account,  however,  appears  very  improbable.  It  is  almost 
incredible  that  the  Indians  should  have  suffered  an  equal 
loss.  Their  superiority  of  numbers,  their  advantage  of 
position,  (being  in  a great  measure  sheltered,  while  thd 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


71 

Kentuckians,  particularly  the  horsemen,  were  much  expos- 
ed,) the  extreme  brevity  of  the  battle,  and  the  acknowl- 
edged bloodiness  of  the  pursuit,  all  tend  to  contradict  the 
report  that  the  Indian  loss  exceeded  ours. 

We  have  no  doubt  that  some  of  the  prisoners  were  mur- 
dered after  arriving  at  their  towns,  but  cannot  believe  that 
the  reason  assigned  for  so  ordinary  a piece  of  barbarity 
was  the  true  one.  Still,  the  execution  done  by  the  Ken- 
tuckians,  while  the  battle  lasted,  seems  to  have  been  con- 
siderable, although  far  inferior  to  the  loss  which  they 
themselves  sustained.  Todd  and  Trigg  were  a severe 
loss  to  their  families,  and  to  the  country  generally.  They 
were  men  of  a rank  in  life  superior  to  the  ordinary  class 
of  settlers,  and  generally  esteemed  for  courage,  probity, 
and  intelligence.  The  death  of  Major  Harland  was  deep- 
ly and  universally  regretted.  A keen  courage,  united  to 
a temper  the  most  amiable,  and  an  integrity  the  most  in- 
corruptible, had  rendered  him  extremely  popular  in  the 
country. 

Together  with  his  friend,  McBride,  he  accompanies 
McGary  in  the  van,  and  both  fell  in  the  commencement  ot 
the  action.  McGary,  notwithstanding  the  extreme  expo- 
sure of  his  station,  as  leader  of  the  van,  and  consequently 
most  deeply  involved  in  the  ranks  of  the  enemy,  escaped 
without  the  slightest  injury.  This  gentleman  will  ever 
be  remembered,  as  associated  with  the  disaster  of  which 
he  was  the  immediate,  although  not  the  original  cause. 
He  has  always  been  represented  as  a man  of  fiery  and  dar- 
ing courage,  strongly  tinctured  with  ferocity,  and  unsoft- 
ened by  any  of  the  humane  and  gentle  qualities  which 
awaken  affection.  In  the  hour  of  battle,  his  presence  w as 
invaluable ; but  in  civil  life,  the  ferocity  of  his  temper  ren- 
dered him  an  unpleasant  companion. 

Several  yea^  after  the  battle  of  the  Blue  Licks,  a gen- 
tleman of  Kentucky,  since  dead,  fell  in  company  with 
McGary  at  one  of  the  circuit  courts,  and  the  conversation 
soon  turned  upon  the  battle.  McGary  frankly  acknowl- 
edged that  he,  himself,  was  the  immediate  cause  of  the 
loss  of  blood  on  that  day,  and  v ith  great  heat  and  energy, 
assigned  his  reasons  for  urging,  on  the  battle*  He  said,, 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


75 

that  in  the  hurried  council  which  was  held  at  Biyant’s  on 
the  18th,  he  had  strenuously  urged  Todd  and  Trigg  to  halt 
for  twenty-four  hours,  assuring  them,  that  with  the  aid  of 
Logan,  they  would  be  able  to  follow  them  even  to  Chilli- 
cothe  if  necessary,  and  that  their  numbers  then , were  too 
weak  to  encounter  them  alone.  He  offered,  he  said,  to 
pledge  his  head,  that  the  Indians  would  not  return  with 
such  precipitation  as  was  supposed,  but  would  afford  am- 
ple time  to  collect  more  force,  and  give  them  battle  with 
a prospect  of  success. 

He  added,  that  Colonel  Todd  scouted  his  arguments,  and 
declared  u that  if  a single  day  was  lost,  the  Indians  would 
never  be  overtaken,  but  would  cross  the  Ohio  and  disperse; 
that  now  was  the  time  to  strike  them,  while  they  were  in 
a body;  that  to  talk  of  their  numbers  was  nonsense — the 
more  the  merrier;  that  for  his  part  he  was  determined  to 
pursue  without  a moment’s  delay,  and  did  not  doubt  that 
there  were  brave  men  enough  on  the  ground,  to  enable  him 
to  attack  them  with  effect.”  McGary  declared  “ that  he  felt 
somewhat  nettled  at  the  manner  in  which  his  advice  had 
been  received.  That  he  thought  Todd  and  Trigg  jealous 
of  Logan,  who,  as  senior  colonel,  would  be  entitled  to  the 
command  upon  his  arrival;  and  that,  in  their  eagerness  to 
have  the  honor  of  the  victory  to  themselves,  they  were 
rashly  throwing  themselves  into  a condition,  which  would 
endanger  the  safety  of  the  country. 

“ However,  sir,”  continued  he,  writh  an  air  of  unamia- 
ble  triumph,  u when  I saw  the  gentlemen  so  keen  for  a 
fight,  I gave  way,  and  joined  in  the  pursuit,  as  willingly 
as  any;  but  when  we  came  in  sight  of  the  enemy,  and  the 
gentlemen  began  to  talk  of 6 numbers,’  6 position,’  4 Logan,1 
and  6 waiting,’  I burst  into  a passion,  d — -d  them  for  a set 
of  cowards,  wdio  could  not  be  wise  until  they  were  scared 
into  it,  and  swore  that  since  they  had  come  so  far  for  a 
fight,  they  should  jiglit,  or  I would  disgrace  them  forever! 
That  when  I spoke  of  waiting  for  Logan  on  the  day  be- 
fore, they  had  scouted  the  idea,  and  hinted  something 
about  4 courage’ — that  now  it  would  be  shown  who  had 
courage,  or  who  were  d — d cowards,  that  could  talk  big 
when  the  enemy  was  at  a distance,,  but  turned  pale  when* 


76 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


danger  was  near.  I then  dashed  into  the  river,  and  call- 
ed upon  all  who  were  not  cowards  to  follow!”  The  gen- 
tleman upon  whose  authority  this  is  given,  added  that, 
even  then,  McGary  spoke  with  bitterness  of  the  deceased 
colonels,  and  swore  that  they  had  received  just  what  they 
deserved,  and  that  he  for  one  was  glad  of  it. 

That  the  charge  of  McGary,  in  its  full  extent,  was  ui*» 
just,  there  can  be.no  doubt;  at  the  same  time,  it  is  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  known  principles  of  human  nature,  to 
suppose  that  the  natural  ardor  of  the  officers,  both  young 
men,  should  be  stimulated  by  the  hope  of  gaining  a victory, 
the  honor  of  which  would  be  given  them  as  commanders. 
The  number  of  the  Indians  was  not  distinctly  known,  and 
if  their  retreat  had  been  ordinarily  precipitate,  they  would 
certainly  have  crossed  the  Ohio  before  Logan  could  have 
joined.  But,  leaving  all  the  facts  to  speak  for  themselves, 
we  will  proceed  with  our  narrative. 

On  the  very  day  in  which  this  rash  and  unfortunate 
battle  was  fought,  Colonel  Logan  arrived  at  Bryant’s  sta- 
tion, at  the  head  of  no  less  than  four  hundred  and  fifty 
men.  He  here  learned  that  the  little  army  had  marched 
on  the  preceding  day,  without  waiting  for  so  strong  and 
necessary  a reinforcement.  Fearful  of  some  such  disas- 
ter as  had  actually  occurred,  he  urged  his  march  with  the 
utmost  diligence,  still  hoping  to  overtake  them  before  they 
could  cross  the  Ohio;  but  within  a few  miles  of  the  fort, 
he  encountered  the  foremost  of  the  fugitives,  whose  jaded 
horses,  and  harassed  looks,  announced  but  too  plainly  the 
•vent  of  the  battle. 

As  usual  with  men  after  a defeat  they  magnified  the 
number  of  the  enemy  and  the  slaughter  of  their  comrades. 
None  knew  the  actual  extent  of  their  loss.  They  could  only 
bo  certain  of  their  own  escape,  and  could  give  no  account 
of  their  companions.  Fresh  stragglers  constantly  came  up* 
with  the  same  mournful  intelligence;  so  that  Logan,  after 
some  hesitation,  determined  to  return  to  Bryant’s  until  all 
the  survivers  should  come  up.  In  the  course  of  the  evei> 
ing,  both  horse  and  foot  were  re-assembled  at  Bryant’s,  and 
the  loss  was  distinctly  ascertained.  Although  sufficiently 
severe,  it  was  less  than  Logan  had  at  first  apprehended* 


DANIEL  BOONE 


77 

and  having  obtained  all  the  information  which  could  be  col- 
lected, as  to  the  strength  and  probable  destination  of  the 
enemy,  he  determined  to  continue  his  march  to  the  battle 
ground,  with  the  hope  that  success  would  embolden  the 
enemy,  and  induce  them  to  remain  until  his  arrival. 

On  the  second  day  he  reached  the  field.  The  enemy 
were  gone,  but  the  bodies  of  the  Kentuckians  still  lay  un- 
buried, on  the  spot  where  they  had  fallen.  Immense 
flocks  of  buzzards  were  soaring  over  the  battle  ground, 
and  the  bodies  of  the  dead  had  become  so  much  swollen 
and  disfigured,  that  it  was  impossible  to  recognise  the  fea- 
tures of  the  most  particular  friends.  Many  corpses  were 
floating  near  the  shore  of  the  northern  bank,  already  pu- 
trid from  the  action  of  the  sun,  and  partially  eaten  by 
fishes.  The  whole  were  carefully  collected  by  order 
of  Colonel  Logan,  and  interred  as  decently  as  the  na- 
ture of  the  soil  would  permit.  Being  satisfied  that  the 
Indians  were  by  this  time  far  beyond  his  reach,  he  then 
retraced  his  steps  to  Bryant’s  station  and  dismissed  his 
men. 

As  soon  as  intelligence  of  the  battle  of  the  Blue 
Licks  reached  Colonel  George  Rogers  Clark,  who  then  re- 
j sided  at  the  Falls  of  Ohio,  he  determined  to  set  on  foot 
an  expedition  against  the  Indian  towns  for  the  purpose 
both  of  avenging  the  loss  of  the  battle,  and  rousing  the 
spirit  of  the  country,  which  had  begun  to  sink  into  the 
deepest  dejection.  He  proposed  that  one  thousand  men 
should  be  raised  from  all  parts  of  Kentucky,  and  should 
rendezvous  at  Cincinnati,  under  the  command  of  their  re- 
spective officers,  where  he  engaged  to  meet  them  at  the 
head  of  a part  of  the  Illinois  regiment,  then  under  his  com- 
mand, together  with  one  brass  field-piece,  which  was 
regarded  by  the  Indians  with  superstitious  terror.  The 
offer  was  embraced  with  great  alacrity ; and  instant  meas- 
ures were  taken  for  the  collection  of  a sufficient  number 
of  volunteers. 

The  whole  force  of  the  interior,  was  assembled  under 
the  command  of  Colonel  Logan,  and  descending  the  Lick- 
ing in  boats,  prepared  for  the  purpose,  arrived  safely  at 
the  designated  point  of  union,  where  they  were  joined  by 


78 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


Clark  with  the  volunteers  and  regular  detachment  from 
below.  No  provision  was  made  for  the  subsistence  of  the 
troops,  and  the  sudden  concentration  of  one  thousand  men 
and  horses  upon  a single  point,  rendered  it  extremely  dif- 
ficult to  procure  the  necessary  supplies.  The  woods 
abounded  in  game;  but  the  rapidity  and  secrecy  of  their 
march,  which  was  absolutely  essential  to  the  success  of 
the  expedition,  did  not  allow  them  to  disperse  in  search  of 
it.  They  suffered  greatly,  therefore,  from  hunger  as  well 
as  fatigue;;  but  all  being  accustomed  to  privations  of  every 
kind,  they  prosecuted  their  march  with  unabated  rapidity, 
and  appeared  within  a mile  of  one  of  their  largest  villages, 
without  encountering  a single  Indian. 

Here,  unfortunately,  a straggler  fell  in  with  them,  and 
instantly  fled  to  the  village,  uttering  the  alarm  whoop  re- 
peatedly in  the  shrillest  and  most  startling  tones.  The 
troops  pressed  forward  with  great  despatch,  and  entering 
their  town  found  it  totally  deserted.  The  houses  had  evi- 
dently been  abandoned  only  a few  minutes  before  their 
arrival.  Fires  were  burning,  meat  was  upon  the  roasting 
sticks,  and  corn  was  stili  boiling  in  their  kettles.  The 
provisions  were  a most  acceptable  treat  to  the  Kentucki- 
ans, who  were  well  nigh  famished,  but  the  escape  of  their 
enemies  excited  deep  and  universal  chagrin. 

After  refreshing  themselves,  they  engaged  in  the  seri- 
ous business  of  destroying  the  property  of  the  tribes  with 
unrelenting  severity.  Their  villages  were  burnt,  their 
corn  cut  up,  and  their  whole  country  laid  waste.  During 
the  whole  of  this  severe,  but  necessary  occupation, scarcely 
an  Indian  was  to  be  seen.  The  alarm  had  spread  univer- 
sally, and  every  village  was  found  deserted.  Occasional 
ly,  a solitary  Indian  would  crawl  up  within  gunshot,  and 
deliver  his  fire;  and  once  a small  party  mounted  upon  su 
perb  horses,  rode  up  with  great  audacity,’  within  musket 
shot,  and  took  a leisurely  survey  of  the  whole  army,  but 
upon  seeing  a detachment  preparing  to  attack  them,  they 
galloped  off  with  a rapidity  which  baffled  pursuit. 

Boone  accompanied  this  expedition,  but  as  usual,  haa 
omitted  every  thing  which  relates  to  himself.  Here  the 
brief  memoir  of  Boone  closes*  it  does  not  appear  that 


DANIEL  BOONE. 


79 


he  was  afterwards  engaged  in  any  public  expedition  or 
solitary  adventure.  He  continued  a highly  respectable 
citizen  of  Kentucky  for  several  years,  until  the  country 
became  too  thickly  settled  for  his  taste.  As  refinement 
of  manners  advanced,  and  the  general  standard  of  intelli- 
gence became  elevated  by  the  constant  arrival  of  families 
of  rank  and  influence,  the  rough  old  woodsman  found 
himself  entirely  out  of  his  element.  He  could  neither 
read  nor  write;  the  all-engaging  subject  of  politics,  which 
soon  began  to  agitate  the  country  with  great  violence,  was 
to  him  as  a sealed  book  or  an  unknown  language;  and  for 
several  years  he  wandered  among  the  living  group  which 
thronged  the  court-yard  or  the  churches,  like  a venerable 
relic  of  other  days.  He  was  among  them,  but  not  of  them! 
He  pined  in  secret,  for  the  wild  and  lonely  forests  of  the 
west;  for  the  immense  prairie  trodden  only  by  the  buffalo, 
or  the  elk;  and  became  eager  to  exchange  the  listless  lan- 
guor and  security  of  a village,  for  the  healthful  exercises 
of  the  chase,  or  the  more  thrilling  excitement  of  savage 
warfare. 

In  1792,  he  dictated  his  brief  and  rather  dry  memoirs 
to  some  young  .gentleman  who  could  write,  and  who  has 
garnished  it  with  a few  flourishes  of  rhetoric,  which  pass- 
ed off  upon  the  old  woodsman  as  a precious  morsel  of  elo- 
quence. He  was  never  more  gratified,  than  when  he 
could  sit  and  hear  it  read  to  him,  by  some  one,  who  was 
willing  at  so  small  an  expense  to  gratify  the  harmless  van- 
ity of  the  kind-hearted  old  pioneer.  He  would  listen  with 
great  earnestness,  and  occasionally  rub  his  hands,  smile, 
and  ejaculate,  ^all  true!  every  word  true!- — not  a lie  in 
it!”  He  shortly  afterwards  left  Kentucky,  and  removed 
to  Louisiana.  Hunting  was  his  daily  amusement,  and  al- 
most his  only  occupation. 

Until  the  day  of  his  death,  (and  he  lived  to  an  unusually 
advanced  age,),  he  was  in  the  habit  of  remaining  for  days 
at  a time  in  the  forest,  at  a distance  from  the  abodes  of 
men,  armed  with  a rifle, hatchet,  knife,  and  having  flints 
and  steel  to  enable  him  to  kindle  a fire,  and  broil  the  wild 
game  upon  which  he  depended  for  subsistence.  When 
too  old  to  walk  through  the  woods,  as  was  bis  custom  whea 


80 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


young,  he  would  ride  to  a lick,  and  there  lay  in  ambush 
all  day,  for  the  sake  of  getting  a shot  at  the  herds  of  deer 
that  were  accustomed  to  visit  the  spot,  for  the  sake  of  the 
salt.  We  have  heard  that  he  died  in  the  woods,  while  lay- 
ing in  ambush  near  a lick,  but  have  not  at  present  the 
means  of  ascertaining  with  certainty  the  manner  of  his 
death. 

He  has  left  behind  him  a name  strongly  written  in  the 
annals  of  Kentucky,  and  a reputation  for  calm  courage, 
softened  by  humanity,  conducted  by  prudence,  and  embel- 
lished by  a singular  modesty  of  deportment.  His  person 
. was  rough,  robust,  and  indicating  strength  rather  than  ac- 
tivity; his  manner  wa$  cold,  grave,  and  taciturn;  his  coun- 
tenance homely,  but  kind;  his  conversation  unadorned, 
unobtrusive,  and  touching  only  upon  the  “needful.”  He 
never  spoke  of  himself,  unless  particularly  questioned; 
but  the  written  account  of  his  life  was  the  Delilah  of  his 
imagination.  The  idea  of  “ seeing  his  name  in  print,” 
completely  overcame  the  cold  philosophy  of  his  general 
manner,  and  he  seemed  to  think  it  a masterpiece  of  com 
position. 


CHAPTER  IH 

Simon  Kenton  was  born  in  Fauquier  county,  Virginia, 
on  the  15th  of  May,  1755,  the  ever  memorable  year  of 
Braddock’s  defeat.  Of  his  early  years  nothing  is  known. 
His  parents  were  poor,  and  until  the  age  of  sixteen,  hisr 
days  seem  to  have  passed  away  in  the  obscure  and  labo- 
rious drudgery  of  a farm.  He  was  never  taught  to  read 
or  write,  and  to  this  early  negligence  or  inability  on  the 
part  of  his  parents,  is  the  poverty  and  desolation  of  his 
old  age,  in  a great  measure,  to  be  attributed.  At  the  age 
of  sixteen,  by  an  unfortunate  adventure,  he  was  launched 
into  life  with  no  other  fortune,  than  a stout  heart  and  a 
robust  set  of  limbs.  It  seems,  that  young  as  he  was,  his 
heart  had  become  entangled  in  the  snares  of  a young  co- 


SIMON  KENTON.  81 

quette  in  the  neighborhood,  who  was  grievously  perplexed 
by  the  necessity  of  choosing  one  husband  out  of  many 
lovers. 

Young  Kenton,  and  a robust  farmer  by  the  name  of 
Leitchman,  seem  to  have  been  the  most  favored  suitors, 
and  the  young  lady,  not  being  able  to  decide  upon  their 
respective  merits,  they  took  the  matter  into  their  own 
hands,  and,  in  consequence  of  foul  play  on  the  part  of 
Leitchraan’s  friends,  young  Kenton  was  beaten  with  great 
severity.  He  submitted  to  his  fate,  for  the  time,  in  silence, 
but  internally  vowed,  that  as  soon  as  he  had  obtained  his 
full  growth,  he  would  take  ample  vengeance  upon  his  ri- 
val, for  the  disgrace  which  he  had  sustained  at  his  hands. 
He  waited  patiently  until  the  following  spring,  when  find- 
ing himself  six  feet  high,  and  full  of  health  and  action,  he 
determined  to  delay  the  hour  of  retribution  no  longer. 

He  accordingly  walked  over  to  Leitchman’s  house  one 
morning,  and  finding  him  busily  engaged  in  carrying  shin- 
gles from  the  woods  to  his  own  house,  he  stopped  him,  told 
him  his  object,  and  desired  him  to  adjourn  to  a spot  more 
convenient  for  the  purpose.  Leitchman,  confident  in  his 
superior  age  and  strength,  was  not  backward  in  testifying 
his  willingness  to  indulge  him  in  so  amiable  a pastime,  and 
having  reached  a solitary  spot  in  the  wood,  they  both  strip- 
ped and  prepared  for  the  encounter.  The  battle  was  fought 
with  all  the  fury,  which  mutual  hate,  jealousy,  and  hercu- 
lean power  on  both  sides,  could  supply,  and  after  a severe 
round,  in  which  considerable  damage  was  done  and  re- 
ceived, Kenton  was  brought  to  the  ground. 

Leitchman  (as  usual  in  Virginia)  sprung  upon  him  with- 
out the  least  scruple,  and  added  the  most  bitter  taunts,  to 
the  kicks  with  which  he  saluted  him,  from  his  head  to  his 
heels,  reminding  him  of  his  'former  defeat,  and  rubbing 
salt  into  the  raw  wounds  of  jealousy,  by  triumphant  allu- 
sions to  his  own  superiority  both  in  love  and  war.  Du- 
ring these  active  operations  on  the  part  of  Leitchman, 
Kenton  lay  perfectly  still,  eying  attentively  a small  bush 
which  grew  near  them.  It  instantly  occurred  to  him, 
that  if  he  could  wind  Leitchman’s  hair,  (which  was  re- 
markably long,)  round  this  bush,  he  would  be  able  to  re 

- f}'  vC  : \ 

j J3T'  d , * / 


82T 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


turn  those  kicks  which  were  now  bestowed  upon  him 
such  profusion.  The  difficulty  was  to  get  his  antagonist 
near  enough. 

This  he  at  length  effected  in  the  good  old  Virginia  style, 
viz  : by  biting  him  en  arriere , and  compelling  him,  by 
short  springs,  to  approach  the  bush,  much  as  a bullock  is 
goaded  on  to  approach  the  fatal  ring,  where  all  his  strug- 
gles are  useless.  When  near  enough,  Kenton  suddenly 
exerted  himself  violently,  and  succeeded  in  wrapping  the 
long  hair  of  his  rival  around  the  sapling.  He  then  sprung 
to  his  feet,  and  inflicted  a terrible  revenge  for  all  his  past 
injuries.  In  a few  seconds  Leitchman  was  gasping,  ap- 
parently in  the  agonies  of  deaths  Kenton  instantly  fled, 
without  even  returning  for  an  additional  supply  of  cloth- 
ing, and  directed  his  steps  westward. 

During  the  first  day  of  his  journey,  he  traveled  in  much 
agitation.  He  supposed  that  Leitchman  was  deadr  and 
that  the  hue  and  cry  would  instantly  be  raised  after  him- 
self as  the  murderer-  The  constant  apprehension  of  a 
gallows,  lent  wings  to  his  flight,,  and  he  scarcely  allowred 
himself  a moment  for  refreshment,,  until  he  had  reached  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Warm  Springs,  where  the  settlements 
were  thin,  and  the  immediate  danger  of  pursuit  was  over. 
Here  he  fortunately  fell  in  with  an  exile  from  the  state  of 
New  Jersey,  of  the  name  of  Johnson,  who  was  traveling 
westward  on  foot,  and  driving:  a single  pack  horse,  laden 
with  a few  necessaries,  before  him.  They  soon  became 
acquainted,  related  their  adventures  to  each  other,,  and 
agreed  to  travel  together. 

They  plunged  boldly  into  the  w ilderness  of  the  Alle- 
ghany mountains,.  and  subsisting  upon  wild  game  and  a 
small  quantity  of  flour,  which  Johnson  had  brought  with 
him,  they  made  no  halt  until  they  arrived  at  a small  set- 
tlement on  Cheat  river,  one  of  the  prongs  of  the  Monon- 
gahela.  Here  the  two  friends  separated,  and  Kenton, 
(who  had  assumed  the  name  of  Butler,)  attached  himself 
to  a small  company  headed  by  John  Mahon  and  Jacob 
Greathouse,  who  had  united  for  the  purpose  of  exploring  the 
country.  They  quickly  built  a large  canoe,  and  descend- 
ed the  river  as  far  as  the  Province’s  settlement.  There 


SIMON  KENTON. 


S3 

Kenton  became  acquainted  with  two  young  adventurers, 
Yager  and  Strader,  the  former  of  whom  had  been  taken 
by  the  Indians  when  a child,  and  had  spent  many  years  in 
their  village* 

He  informed  Kenton  that  there  was  a country  below, 
which  the  Indians  called  Kan-tuck-ee,  which  was  a perfect 
Elysium;  that  the  ground  was  not  only  the  richest,  and 
the  vegetation  the  most  luxuriant  in  the  world;  but,  that 
the  immense  herds  of  buffalo  and  elk,  which  ranged  at 
large  through  its  forests,  would  appear  incredible  to  one 
who  had  never  witnessed  such  a spectacle*  He  added, 
that  it  was  entirely  uninhabited,  and  was  open  to  all  who 
chose  to  hunt  there  > that  he  himself  had  often  accompanied 
the  Indians  in  their  grand  hunting  parties  through  the 
country,  and  was  confident  that  he  could  conduct  him  to 
the  same  ground,  if  he  was  willing  to  venture* 

Kenton  eagerly  closed  with  the  proposal,  and  announ- 
ced his  readiness  to  accompany  him  immediately.  A ca- 
noe was  speedily  procured,  and  the  three  young  men  com- 
mitted themselves  to  the  waters  of  the  Ohio,  in  search  of  the 
enchanted  hunting  ground,  which  Yager  had  visited  in  his 
youth,  while  a captive  among  the  Indians.  Yager  had  no 
idea  of  its  exact  distance  from  Province’s  settlement.  He 
recollected  only  that  he  had  crossed  the  Ohio  in  order  to 
reach  it,  and  declared  that,  by  sailing  down  the  river  for 
a few  days,  they  would  come  to  the  spot  where  the  Indians 
were  accustomed  to  cross,  and  assured  Kenton  that  there 
would  be  no  difficulty  in  recognizing  it,  that  its  appearance 
was  different  from  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  &c.  &c. 

Fired  by  Yager’s  glowing  description  of  its  beauty,  and 
eager  to  reach  this  new  El  Dorado  of  the  west,  the  young 
men  rowed  hard  for  several  days,  confidently  expecting 
that  every  bend  of  the  river  would  usher  them  into  the 
land  of  promise.  No  such  country,  however,  appeared; 
and  at  length  Kenton  and  Strader  became  rather  sceptical 
as  to  its  existence  at  all.  They  rallied  Yager  freely  upon 
the  subject,  who  still  declared  positively  that  they  would 
soon  witness  the  confirmation  of  all  that  he  had  said.  Af- 
ter descending,  however,  as  low  as  the  spot  where  Man- 
chester now  stands,  and  seeing  nothing  which  resembled 


84 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


Yager’s  country,  they  held  a council,  in  which  it  was  de- 
termined to  return,  and  survey  the  country  more  carefully; 
Yager  still  insisting,  that  they  must  have  passed  it  in  the 
night.  They,  accordingly,  retraced  their  steps,  and  suc- 
cessively explored  the  land  about  Salt  Lick,  Little  and 
Big  Sandy,  and  Guyandotte.  At  length,  being  totally 
wearied  out  in  searching  for  what  had  no  existence,  they 
turned  their  attention  entirely  to  hunting  and  trapping, 
and  spent  nearly  two  years  upon  the  great  Kenawha,  in 
this  agreeable  and  profitable  occupation.  They  obtained 
clothing  in  exchange  for  their  furs,  from  the  traders  of 
fort  Pitt,  and  the  forest  supplied  them  abundantly  with 
wild  game  for  food. 

In  March,  1773,  while  reposing  in  their  tent,  after  the 
labors  of  the  day,  they  were  suddenly  attacked  by  a party 
of  Indians.  Strader  was  killed  at  the  first  fire,  and  Ken- 
ton and  Yager  with  difficulty  effected  their  escape,  being 
compelled  to  abandon  their  guns,  blankets,  and  provisions, 
and  commit  themselves  to  the  wilderness,  without  the 
means  of  sheltering  themselves  from  the  cold,  procuring  a 
morsel  of  food,  or  even  kindling  a fire.  They  were  far 
removed  from  any  white  settlement,  and  had  no  other  pros- 
pect than  that  of  perishing  by  famine,  or  falling  a sacrifice 
to  the  fury  of  such  Indians  as  might  chance  to  meet  them. 
Reflecting,  however,  that  it  was  never  too  late  for  men  to 
be  utterly  lost,  they  determined  to  strike  through  the  woods 
for  the  Ohio  river,  and  take  such  fortune  as  it  should  please 
heaven  to  bestow. 

Directing  their  route  by  the  barks  of  trees,  they  press- 
ed forward  in  a straight  direction  for  the  Ohio,  and  during 
the  two  first  days  allayed  the  piercing  pangs  of  hunger  by 
chewing  such  roots  as  they  could  find  on  their  way.  On 
the  third  day,  their  strength  began  to  fail,  and  the  keen 
appetite  which,  at  first,  had  constantly  tortured  them,  was 
succeeded  by  a nausea,  accompanied  with  dizziness  and  a 
sinking  of  the  heart,  bordering  on  despair.  On  the  fourth 
day,  they  often  threw  themselves  upon  the  ground,  deter- 
mined to  await  the  approach  of  death;  and  as  often  were 
stimulated,  by  the  instinctive  love  of  life,  to  arise  and  re- 
sume their  journey.  Or  the  fifth,  they  were  completely  ex 


SIMON  KENTON. 


8§ 

hausted  and  were  able  only  to  crawl,  at  intervals.  In  this 
manner,  they  traveled  about  a mile  during  the  day,  and 
succeeded,  by  sunset,  in  reaching  the  banks  of  the  Ohio. 
Here,  to  their  inexpressible  joy,  they  encountered  a party 
of  traders,  from  whom  they  obtained  a comfortable  supply 
of  provisions. 

The  traders  were  so  much  startled  at  the  idea  of  being 
exposed  to  perils,  such  as  those  which  Kenton  and  Yager  had 
just  escaped,  that  they  lost  no  time  in  removing  from  such 
a dangerous  vicinity,  and  instantly  returned  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Little  Kenawha,  where  they  met  with  Dr.  Briscoe 
at  the  head  of  another  exploring  party.  From  him,  Ken- 
ton obtained  a rifle  and  some  ammunition,  with  which  he 
again  plunged  alone  into  the  forest,  and  hunted  with  suc- 
cess until  the  summer  of  1773  was  far  advanced.  Return- 
ing, then,  to  the  Little  Kenawha,  he  found  a party  of 
fourteen  men  under  the  direction  of  Dr.  Wood  and  Han- 
cock Lee,  who  were  descending  the  Ohio  with  the  view 
of  joining  Captain  Bullitt,  who  was  supposed  to  be  at  the 
mouth  of  Scioto,  with  a large  party. 

Kenton  instantly  joined  them,  and  descended  the  river  in 
canoes  as  far  as  the  Three  Islands,  landing  frequently  and 
examining  the  country  on  each  side  of  the  river.  At  the 
Three  Islands  they  were  alarmed  by  the  approach  of  a 
large  party  of  Indians,  by  whom  they  were  compelled  to 
abandon  their  canoes  and  strike  diagonally  through  the 
wilderness  for  Greenbriar  county,  Virginia.  They  suffer- 
ed mueh  during  this  journey  from  fatigue  and  famine,  and 
were  compelled  at  one  time  (notwithstanding  the  danger 
of  their  situation,)  to  halt  for  fourteen  days  and  wait  upon 
Dr.  Wood,  who  had  unfortunately  been  bitten  by  a copper- 
head snake,  and  rendered  incapable  of  moving  for  that 
length  of  time.  Upon  reaching  the  settlements  the  party 
separated. 

Kenton,  not  wishing  to  venture  to  Virginia,  (having 
heard  nothing  of  Leitchman’s  recovery,)  built  a canoe  on 
the  banks  of  the  Monongahela,  and  returned  to  the  mouth 
of  the  great  Kenawha,  hunted  with  success  until  the 
spring  of  1774,  when  a war  broke  out  between  the  Indian 
tribes  and  the  colonies,  occasioned,  in  a great  measure,  by 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


m 

the  murder  of  the  celebrated  chief,  Logan’s  family,  by 
Captain  Cressup.  Kenton  was  not  in  the  great  battle 
near  the  mouth  of  the  Kenawha,  but  acted  as  a spy 
throughout  the  whole  of  the  campaign,  in  the  course  of 
which,  he  traversed  the  country  around  fort  Pitt,  and  a 
large  part  of  the  present  state  of  Ohio. 

When  Dunmore’s  forces  were  disbanded,  Kenton,  in 
company  with  two  others,  determined  on  making  a second 
effort  to  discover  the  rich  lands  bordering  on  the  Ohio,  of 
which  Yager  had  spoken.  Having  built  a canoe,  and  pro- 
vided themselves  abundantly  with  ammunition,  theylde- 
scended  the  river  as  far  as  the  mouth  of  Big  Bone  Creek, 
upon  which  the  celebrated  Lick  of  that  name  is  situated. 
They  there  disembarked,  and  explored  the  country  for 
several  days;  but  not  finding  the  land  equal  to  their  ex- 
pectations, they  reascended  the  river  as  far  as  the  mouth 
of  Cabin  Creek,  a few  miles  above  Maysville. 

From  this  point,  they  set  out  with  a determination 
to  examine  the  country  carefully,  until  they  could  find 
land  answering  in  some  degree,  to  Yager’s  description. 
In  a short  time,  they  reached  the  neighborhood  of  May’s 
Lick,  and  for  the  first  time  were  struck  with  the  uncommon 
beauty  of  the  country  and  fertility  of  the  soil.  Here  they 
fell  in  with  the  great  buffalo  trace,  which,  in  a few  hours, 
brought  them  to  the  Lower  Blue  Lick.  The  flats  upon 
each  side  of  the  river  were  crowded  with  immense  herds 
of  buffalo,  that  had  come  down  from  the  interior  for  the 
sake  of  the  salt;  and  a number  of  elk  were  seen  up- 
on the  bare  ridges  which  surrounded  the  springs.  Their 
great  object  was  now  achieved.  They  had  discovered  a 
country  far  more  rich  than  any  which  they  had  yet  beheld, 
and  where  the  game  seemed  as  abundant  as  the  grass  of 
the  plain. 

After  remaining  a few  days  at  the  Lick,  and  killing  an 
immense  number  of  deer  and  buffalo,  they  crossed  the  Lick- 
ing, and  passed  through  the  present  counties  of  Scott, 
Fayette,  Woodford,  Clarke,  Montgomery,  and  Bath;  when, 
falling  in  with  another  buffalo  trace,  it  conducted  them  to 
the  Upper  Blue  Lick,  where  they  again  beheld  elk  and 
by^alo  in  immense  numbers.  Highly  gratified  at  the  sue- 


SIMON  KENTON. 


8? 

cess  of  their  expedition,  they  quickly  returned  to  their 
canoe,  and  ascended  the  river  as  far  as  Green  Bottom, 
where  they  had  left  their  skins,  some  ammunition,  and  a 
few  hoes,  which  they  had  procured  at  Kenawha,  with  the 
view  of  cultivating  the  rich  ground  which  they  expected 
to  find. 

Returning  as  quickly  as  possible,  they  built  a cabin  on 
the  spot  where  the  town  of  Washington  now  stands,  and 
having  cleared  an  acre  of  ground,  in  the  center  of  a large 
canebrake,  they  planted  it  with  Indian  corn.  Strolling 
about  the  country  in  various  directions,  they  one  day  fell 
in  with  two  white  men  near  the  Lower  Blue  Lick,  who  had 
lost  their  guns,  blankets,  and  ammunition,,  and  were  much 
distressed  for  provisions  and  the  means  of  extricating 
themselves  from  the  wilderness.  They  informed  them 
that  there  names  were  Fitzpatrick  and  Hendricks;  that, 
in  descending  the  Ohio,  their  canoe  had  been  overset  by 
a sudden  squally  and  that  they  were  compelled  to  swim 
ashore,  without  being  able  to  save  any  thing  from  the 
wreck;  that  they  had  wandered  thus  far  through  the  woods, 
in  the  effort  to  penetrate  through  the  country,,  to  the  set- 
tlements above,  but  must  infallibly  perish,  unless  they 
could  be  furnished  with  guns  and  ammunition. 

Kenton  informed  them  of  the  small  settlement  which 
he  had  opened  at  Washington,  and  invited  them  to  join 
him  and  share  such  fortune  as  Providence  might  bestow. 
Hendricks  consented  to  remain,but  Fitzpatrick,being  hear- 
tily sick  of  the  woods,  insisted  upon  returning  to  the  Monon- 
gahela*  Kenton  and  his  two  friends,  accompanied  Fitzpatrick 
to  “ the  point,”  as  it  was  then  called,  being  the-  spot  where 
Maysville  now  stands,  and  having  given  him  a gun,  &x., 
assisted  him  in  crossing  the  river,  and  took  leave  of  him 
on  the  other  side* 

In  the  mean  time,  Hendricks  had  been  left  at  the  Blue 
Lick,  without  a gun,  but  with  a good  supply  of  provisions, 
until  the  party  could  return  from  the  river.  As  soon  as 
Fitzpatrick  had  gone,  Kenton  and  his  two  friends  hasten- 
ed to  return  to  the  Lick,  not  doubting  for  a moment,  that 
they  would  find  Hendricks  in  camp  as  they  had  left  him* 
Upon  arriving  at  the  point  where  the  tent  had  stood, how- 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


88 

ever,  they  were  alarmed  at  finding  it  deserted,  with  evi- 
dent marks  of  violence  around  it.  Several  bullet  holes 
were  to  be  seen  in  the  poles  of  which  it  was  constructed, 
and  various  articles  belonging  to  Hendricks,  were  tossed 
about  in  too  negligent  a manner  to  warrant  the  belief  that 
it  had  been  done  by  him. 

At  a little  distance  from  the  camp,  in  a low  ravine, 
they  observed  a thick  smoke,  as  if  from  a fire  just  be- 
inning  to  burn.  They  did  not  doubt  for  a moment, 
hat  Hendricks  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Indians, 
and  believing  that  a party  of  them  were  then  assembled 
around  the  fire  which  was  about  to  be  kindled,  they  betook 
themselves  to  their  heels,  and  fled  faster  and  farther,  than 
true  chivalry  perhaps  would  justify.  They  remained  at 
a distance  until  the  evening  of  the  next  day,  when  they 
ventured  cautiously  to  return  to  camp.  The  fire  was  still 
burning,  although  faintly,  and  after  carefully  reconnoiter- 
ing  the  adjacent  ground,  they  ventured  at  length  to  ap- 
proach the  spot,  and  there  beheld  the  skull  and  bones  of 
their  unfortunate  friend  ! 

He  had  evidently  been  roasted  to  death  by  a party  of  In- 
dians, and  must  have  been  alive  at  the  time  when  Kenton 
and  his  companions  approached  on  the  preceding  day.  It 
was  a subject  of  deep  regret  to  the  party,  that  they  had 
not  reconnoitered  the  spot  more  closely,  as  it  was  probable 
that  their  friend  might  have  been  rescued.  The  number 
of  Indians  might  have  been  small,  and  a brisk  and  unex- 
pected attack  might  have  dispersed  them.  Regret,  how- 
ever, was  now  unavailing,  and  they  sadly  retraced  their 
steps  to  their  camp  at  Washington,  pondering  upon- the 
uncertainty  of  their  own  condition,  and  upon  the  danger 
to  which  they  were  hourly  exposed  from  the  numerous 
bands  of  hostile  Indians,  who  were  prowling  around  them 
in  every  direction. 

They  remained  at  Washington,  entirely  undisturbed, 
until  the  month  of  September,  when  again  visiting  the 
Lick,  they  saw  a white  man,  who  informed  them  that  the 
interior  of  the  country  was  already  occupied  by  the 
whites,  and  that  there  was  a thriving  settlement  at  Boones- 
borough.  Highly  gratified  at  this  intelligence,  and  anx- 


SIMON  KENTON. 


89 


ious  once  more  to  enjoy  the  society  of  men,  they  broke 
up  their  encampment  at  Washington,  and  visited  the 
different  stations  which  had  been  formed  in  the  country. 
Kenton  sustained  two  sieges  in  Boonesborough,  and  served 
as  a spy,  with  equal  diligence  and  success,  until  the 
summer  of  1778,  when  Boone,  returning  from  captivity, 
as  has  already  been  mentioned,  concerted  an  expedition 
against  the  small  Indian  town  on  Paint  Creek. 

Kenton  acted  as  a spy  on  this  expedition,  and  after 
Crossing  the  Ohio,  being  some  distance  in  advance  of  the 
rest,  he  was  suddenly  startled  by  hearing  a loud  laugh 
from  an  adjoining  thicket,  which  he  was  just  about  to  en- 
ter. Instantly  halting,  he  took  his  station  behind  a tree, 
and  waited  anxiously  for  a repetition  of  the  noise.  In  a 
few  minutes,  two  Indians  approached  the  spot  where  he 
lay,  both  mounted  upon  a small  pony,  and  chatting  and 
laughing  in  high  good  humor.  Having  permitted  them  to 
approach  within  good  rifle  distance,  he  raised  his  gun, 
and  aiming  at  the  breast  of  the  foremost,  pulled  the 
trigger.  Both  Indians  fell  ; one  shot  dead,  the  other  severe- 
ly wounded. 

Their  frightened  pony  galloped  back  into  the  cane,  giv- 
ing the  alarm  to  the  rest  of  the  party  who  were  some  distance 
in  the  rear.  Kenton  instantly  ran  up  to  scalp  the  dead  man 
and  to  tomahawk  his  wounded  companion,  according  to  the 
usual  rule  of  western  warfare;  but,  when  about  to  put  an 
end  to  the  struggles  of  the  wounded  Indian,  who  did  not 
seem  disposed  to  submit  very  quietly  to  the  operation,  his 
attention  was  attracted  by  a rustling  of  the  cane  on  his 
right,  and  turning  rapidly  in  that  direction,  he  beheld  two 
Indians  within  twenty  steps  of  him,  very  deliberately  ta- 
king aim  at  his  person.  A quick  spring  to  one  side,  on 
his  part,  was  instantly  followed  by  the  flash  and  report  of 
their  rifles ; the  balls  whistled  close  to  his  ears,  causing  him 
involuntarily  to  duck  his  head,  but  doing  him  no  injury. 

Not  liking  so  hot  a neighborhood,  and  ignorant  of  the 
number  which  might  yet  be  behind,  he  lost  no  time  in  re- 
gaining the  shelter  of  the  wood,  leaving  the  dead  Indian 
unscalped,  and  the  wounded  man  to  the  care  of  his  friends. 
Scarcely  had  he  treed,  when  a dozen  Indians  appeared  on 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


$0 

the  edge  of  the  canebrake,  and  seemed  disposed  to  press 
upon  him  with  more  vigor  than  was  consistent  with  the 
safety  of  his  present  position.  His  fears  however,  were 
instantly  relieved  by  the  appearance  of  Boone  and  his 
party,  who  came  running  up  as  rapidly  as  a due  regard  to 
the  shelter  of  their  persons  would  permit,  and  opening  a 
brisk  fire  upon  the  Indians,  quickly  compelled  them  to  re- 
gain the  shelter  of  the  canebrake,  with  the  loss  of  several 
wounded,  who,  as  usual,  were  carried  ofE  The  dead  In- 
dian, in  the  hurry  of  the  retreat  was  abandoned,  and  Ken- 
ton at  last  had  the  gratification  of  taking  his  scalp1. 

Boone,  as  has  already  been  mentioned,  instantly  re- 
traced his  steps  to  Boonesborough.;  but  Kenton  and  his 
friend  Montgomery,  determined  to  proceed  alone  to  the 
Indian  town,  and  at  least  obtain  seme  recompense  for  the 
trouble  of  their  journey.  Approaching  the  village  with 
the  cautious  and  stealthy  pace  of  the  cat  or  panther,  they 
took  their  stations  upon  the  edge  of  the  cornfield,  supposing 
that  the  Indians  would  enter  it  as  usual  to  gather  roasting- 
ears.  They  remained  here  patiently  all  day,  but  did  not 
see  a single  Indian,  and  heard  only  the  voices  of  some 
children  who  were  playing  near  them.  Being  disappoint- 
ed in  the  hope  of  getting  a shot,  they  entered  the  Indian 
town  in  the  night,  and  stealing  four  good  horses,  made  a 
rapid  night’s  march  for  the  Ohio,  which  they  crossed  in 
safety,  and  on  the  second  day  afterwards,  reached  Logan’a 
fort  with  their  booty. 

Scarcely  had  he  returned,  when  Colonel  Bowman  order- 
ed him  to  take  his  friend  Montgomery,  and  another  young 
man  named  Clark,  and  go  on  a secret  expedition  to  an  In- 
dian toAvn  on  the  Little  Miami,  against  which  the  Colonel 
meditated  an  expedition,  and  of  the  exact  condition  of 
which  he  wished  to  have  certain  information.  They  in- 
stantly set  out,  in  obedience  to  their  orders,  and  reached 
the  neighborhood  of  the  town  without  being  discovered. 
They  examined  it  attentively,  and  walked  around  the 
houses  during  the  night  with  perfect  impunity.  Thus  far 
rail  had  gone  well;  and  had  they  been  contented  to  return 
after  the  due  execution  of  their  orders,  they  would  hava 
avoided  the  heavy  calamity  which  awaited  them. 


SIMON  KENTON. 


91 

Bat,  unfortunately,  during  their  nightly  promenade, 
they  stumbled  upon  a pound  in  which  were  a number  of  In- 
dian horses.  The  temptation  was  not  to  be  resisted.  They 
each  mounted  a horse,  but  not  satisfied  with  that,  they 
could  not  find  it  in  their  hearts  to  leave  a single  animal 
behind  them,  and  as  some  of  the  horses  seemed  indisposed 
to  change  masters,  the  affair  was  attended  with  so  much 
fracas,  that  at  last  they  were  discovered.  The  cry  ran 
through  the  village  at  once,  that  the  Long  Knives  were 
Btealing  their  horses  right  before  the  doors  of  their  wig- 
wams, and  old  and  young,  squaws,  boys,  and  warriors,  ail 
sallied  out  with  loud  screams  to  save  their  property  from 
these  greedy  spoilers.  Kenton  and  his  friends  quickly 
discovered  that  they  had  overshot  the  mark,  and  that  they 
must  ride  for  their  lives;  but  even  in  this  extremity,  they 
could  not  bring  themselves  to  give  up  a single  horse  which 
they  had  haltered,  and  while  two  of  them  rode  m front  and 
led,  I know  not  how  many  horses,  the  other  brought  up  the 
rear,  and  plying  his  whip  from  right  to  left,  did  not  permit 
a single  animal  to  lag  behind. 

In  this  manner  they  dashed  through  the  woods  at  a fu- 
rious rate  with  the  hue  and  cry  after  them,  until  their  course 
was  suddenly  stopped  by  an  impenetrable  swamp.  Here, 
from  necessity,  they  paused  for  a few  moments  and  listen- 
ed attentively.  Hearing  no  sounds  of  pursuit,  they  re- 
sumed their  course,  and  skirting  the  swamp  for  some  dis- 
tance, in  the  vain  hope  of  crossing  it,  they  bent  their  course 
in  a straight  direction  towards  the  Ohio.  They  rode  du- 
ring the  whole  night  without  resting  a moment — and  halt- 
ing for  a few  minutes  at  day-light,  they  continued  their 
journey  throughout  the  day,  and  the  whole  of  the  follow- 
ing night,  and  by  this  uncommon  expedition,  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  second  day  they  reached  the  northern  bank  of 
the  Ohio. 

Crossing  the  river  would  now  ensure  their  safety,  but 
this  was  likely  to  prove  a difficult  undertaking,  and  th® 
close  pursuit  which  they  had  reason  to  expect,  rendered  it 
necessary  to  lose  as  little  time  as  possible.  The  wind 
was  high  and  the  river  rough  and  boisterous.  It  was  de- 
termined that  Kenton  should  cross  with  the  horses,  whiW 


92 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


Clark  and  Montgomery  should  construct  a raft  in  order  to 
transport  their  guns,  baggage  and  ammunition  to  the  op- 
posite shore.  The  necessary  preparations  were  soon 
made,  and  Kenton,  after  forcing  his  horses  into  the  river, 
plunged  in  himself  and  swam  by  their  side.  In  a very  few 
minutes  the  high  waves  completely  overwhelmed  him  and 
forced  him  considerably  below  the  horses,  that  stemmed 
the  current  much  more  vigorously  than  himself. 

The  horses  being  thus  left  to  themselves,  turned  about, 
and  swam  again  to  the  Ohio  shore,  where  Kenton  was 
compelled  to  follow  them.  Again  he  forced  them  into  the 
water — and  again  they  returned  to  the  same  spot,  until 
Kenton  became  so  exhausted  by  repeated  efforts,  as  to  be 
unable  to  swim.  A council  was  then  held  and  the  ques- 
tion proposed  “what  was  to  be  done?”  That  the  Indians 
would  pursue  them,  was  certain ; that  the  horses  would  not, 
and  could  not  be  made  to  cross  the  river  in  its  present 
state,  was  equally  certain.  Should  they  abandon  their 
horses  and  cross  on  the  raft,  or  remain  with  their  horses 
and  take  such  fortune  as  heaven  should  send  them?  The 
latter  alternative  was  unanimously  adopted.  Death  or 
captivity  might  be  tolerated — but  the  loss  of  so  beautifuf 
a lot  of  horses,  after  having  worked  so  hard  for  them,  was 
not  to  be  thought  of  for  a moment. 

As  soon  as  it  was  determined  that  themselves  and  hor- 
ses were  to  share  the  same  fate,  it  again  became  necessa- 
ry to  fix  upon  some  probable  plan  of  saving  them.  Should 
they  move  up  or  down  the  river,  or  remain  where  they 
were?  The  latter  course  was  adopted.  It  was  supposed 
that  the  wind  would  fall  at  sunset,  and  the  river  become 
sufficiently  calm  to  admit  of  their  passage,  and  as  it  was 
supposed  probable  that  the  Indians  might  be  upon  them 
before  night,  it  was  determined  to  conceal  the  horses  in  a 
neighboring  ravine,  while  they  should  take  their  stations 
in  the  adjoining  wood.  A more  miserable  plan  could  not 
have  been  adopted.  If  they  could  not  consent  to  sacrifice 
their  horses,  in  order  to  save  their  own  lives,  they  should 
have  moved  either  up  or  down  the  river,  and  thus  have 
preserved  the  distance  from  the  Indians  which  their  rapidi- 
ty of  movement  had  gained. 


SIMON  KENTON, 


93 


The  Indians  would  have  followed  their  trail,  and  being 
twenty  four  hours  march  behind  them,  could  never  have 
overtaken  them.  But  neglecting  this  obvious  considera- 
tion, they  stupidly  sat  down  until  sunset,  expecting  that  the 
river  would  become  more  calm.  The  day  passed  away  in 
tranquility,  but  at  night  the  wind  blew  harder  than  ever, 
and  the  water  became  so  rough,  that  even  their  raft  would 
have  been  scarcely  able  to  cross.  Not  an  instant  more 
should  have  been  lost,  in  moving  from  so  dangerous  a post; 
but  as  if  totally  infatuated,  they  remained  where  they 
were  until  morning;  thus  wasting  twenty-four  hours  of 
most  precious  time  in  total  idleness.  In  the  morning, 
the  wind  abated,  and  the  river  became  calrm — but  it  was 
now  too  late.  Their  horses,  recollecting  the  difficulty  of 
the  passage  on  the  preceding  day,  had  become  as  obstinate 
and  heedless  as  their  masters,  and  positively  and  repeat- 
edly refused  to  take  the  water. 

Finding  every  effort  to  compel  them,  entirely  unavailing, 
their  masters  at  length  determined  to  do  what  ought  to 
have  been  done  at  first.  Each  resolved  to  mount  a horse 
and  make  the  best  of  his  way  down  the  river  to  Louii*- 
vilie.  Had  even  this  resolution,  however  tardily  adop- 
ted, been  executed  with  decision,  the  party  would  prob- 
ably have  been  saved,  but  after  they  were  mounted,  instead 
of  leaving  the  ground  instantly,  they  went  back  upon 
their  own  trail,  in  the  vain  effort  to  regain  possession  of 
the  rest  of  their  horses,  which  had  broken  from  them  in 
the  last  effort  to  drive  them  into  the  water.  They  wea- 
ried out  their  good  genius,  and  literally  fell  victims  to 
their  love  for  horse-flesh. 

They  had  scarcely  ridden  one  hundred  yards,  (Kenton 
in  the  center,  the  others  upon  the  flanks,  with  an  interval 
of  two  hundred  yards  between  them,)  when  Kenton  heard 
a loud  halloo,  apparently  coming  from  the  spot  which  they 
had  just  left.  Instead  of  getting  out  of  the  way  as  fast 
as  possible,  and  trusting  to  the  speed  of  his  horse  and  the 
hickness  of  the  wood  for  safety,  he  put  the  last  capping 
stone  to  his  imprudence,  and  dismounting,  walked  leisure- 
ly back  to  meet  his  pursuers,  and  thus  give  them  as  little 
trouble  as  possible.  He  quickly  beheld  three  Indians,  and 


94 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


one  white  man,  all  well  mounted.  . Wishing  to  give  the 
alarm  to  his  companions,  he  raised  his  rifle  to  his  shoulder, 
took  a steady  aim  at  the  breast  of  the  foremost  Indian, 
and  drew  the  trigger.  His  gun  had  become  wet  on  the 
raft  and  flashed. 

The  enemy  were  instantly  alarmed,  and  dashed  at  him. 
Now,  at  last,  when  flight  could  be  of  no  service,  Kenton 
betook  himself  to  his  heels,  and  was  pursued  by  four  horse- 
men at  full  speed.  He  instantly  directed  his  steps  to  the 
thickest  part  of  the  wood,  where  there  was  much  fallen 
timber  and  a rank  growth  cf  underwood,  and  had  succee- 
ded, as  he  thought,  in  baffling  his  pursuers,  when,  just  as 
he  was  leaving  the  fallen  timber  and  entering  the  open 
wood,  an  Indian  on  horseback  galloped  round  the  corner 
of  the  wood,  and  approached  him  so  rapidly  as  to  render 
flight  useless.  The  horseman  rode  up,  holding  out  his 
hand  and  calling  out  “brother!  brother!”  in  a tone  of  great 
affection.  Kenton  observes  that  if  his  gun  would  have 
made  fire,  he  would  have  “ brothered”  him  to  his  heart’s 
content,  but  being  totally  unarmed,  he  called  out  that  he 
would  surrender  if  they  would  give  him  quarter  and  good 
treatment. 

Promises  were  cheap  with  the  Indian,  and  he  showered 
them  out  by  the  dozen,  continuing  all  the  while  to  advance 
with  extended  hands  and  a writhing,  grin  upon  his  coun- 
tenance, which  was  intended  for  a smile  of  courtesy. 
Seizing  Kenton’s  hand,  he  grasped  it  with  violence.  Ken- 
ton, not  liking  the  manner  of  his  captor,,  raised  his  gun 
to  knock  him  down,  when  an  Indian  who  had  followed  him 
closely  through  the  brushwood,  instantly  sprung  upon  his 
back  and  pinioned  his  arms  to  his  side.  The  one  who  had 
just  approached  him,  then  seized  him  by  the  hair  and 
shook  him  until  his  teeth  rattled,  while  the  rest  of  the 
party  coming  up,  they  all  fell  upon  Kenton  with  their 
tongues  and  ramrods,  until  he  thought  they  would  scold 
or  beat  him  to  death.  They  were  the  owners  of  the  hor- 
ses which  he  had  carried  offhand  now  took  ample  revenge 
for  the  loss  of  their  property.  At  every  stroke  of  their 
ramrods  over  his  head,,  (and  they  were  neither  few  nor  far 


SIMON  KENTON. 


95 

between,)  they  would  repeat  in  a tone  of  strong  indigna- 
tion, “ steal  Indian  hoss!!  hey!!” 

Their  attention,  however,  was  soon  directed  to  Mont 
gomery,  who,  having  heard  the  noise  attending  Kenton’s 
capture,  very  gallantly  hastened  up  to  his  assistance;  while 
Clark  very  prudently  consulted  his  own  safety  in  betaking 
himself  to  his  heels,  leaving  his  unfortunate  companions  to 
shift  for  themselves.  Montgomery  halted  within  gunshot  and 
appeared  busy  with  the  pan  of  his  gun,  as  if  preparing  to 
fire.  Two  Indians  instantly  sprung  off  in  pursuit  of  him, 
while  the  rest  attended  to  Kenton.  In  a few  minutes 
Kenton  heard  the  crack  cf  two  rifles  in  quick  succession, 
followed  by  a halloo,  which  announced  the  fate  of  his 
friend..  The  Indians  quickly  returned,  waving  the  bloody 
scalp  of  Montgomery,  and  with  countenances  and  gestures 
which  menaced  him  with  a similar  fate. 

They  then  proceeded  to  secure  their  prisoner.  They 
first  compelled  him  to  lie  upon  his  back,  and  stretched  out 
his  arms  to  their  full  length.  They  then  passed  a stout 
stick  at  right  angles  across  his  breast,  to  each  extremity 
of  which  his  wrists  were  fastened  by  thongs  made  of  Buf- 
falo’s hide.  Stakes  were  then  driven  into  the  earth,  near 
his  feet,  to  which  they  were  fastened  in  a similar  manner. 
A halter  was  then  tied  around  his  neck,  and  fastened  to  a 
sapling  which  grew  near,  and  finally  a strong  rope  was 
passed  under  his  belly,  lashed  strongly  to  the  pole  which 
lay  transversely  upon  his  breast,  and  finally  wrapped 
around  his  arms  at  the  elbows,  in  such  a manner  as  to  pin- 
ion them  to  the  pole  with  a painful  violence,  and  render 
him  literally  incapable  of  moving  hand,,  foot,  or  head,  in 
the  slightest  manner. 

During  the  whole  of  this  severe  operation,  neither 
their  tongues  nor  hands  were  by  any  means  idle.  They 
cuffed  him  from  time  to  time  with  great  heartiness,  until 
his  ears  rung  again,  and  abused  him  for  a a tief ! — a hoss 

steal! — a rascal!”  and  finally,  for  a “ d* d white  man!” 

[ may  here  observe,  that  aii  the  western  Indians  had  pick- 
ed up  a good  many  English  words,  particularly  our  oathsr 
which,  from  the  frequency  with  which  they  were  used  by 
our  hunters  and  traders,,  they  probably  looked  upon  m- 


96 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


the  very  root  and  foundation  of  the  English  language. 
Kenton  remained  in  this  painful  attitude  throughout  the 
night,  looking  forward  to  certain  death,  and  most  probably 
torture,  as  soon  as  he  should  reach  their  towns.  Their 
rage  against  him  seemed  to  increase  rather  than  abate, 
from  indulgence,  and  in  the  morning  it  displayed  itself  in 
a form  at  once  ludicrous  and  cruel. 

Among  the  horses  which  Kenton  had  taken,  and  which 
their  original  owners  had  now  recovered,  was  a fine  but 
wild  young  colt,  totally  unbroken,  and  with  all  his  honors 
of  mane  and  tail  undocked.  Upon  him,  Kenton  was 
mounted,  without  saddle  or  bridle,  with  his  hands  tied  be- 
hind him,  and  his  feet  fastened  under  the  horse’s  belly. 
The  country  was  rough  and  bushy,  and  Kenton  had  no 
means  of  protecting  his  face  from  the  brambles,  through 
which  it  was  expected  that  the  colt  would  dash.  As  soon 
as  the  rider  was  firmly  fastened  to  his  back,  the  colt  was 
turned  loose  with  a sudden  lash,  but  after  exerting  a few 
curvetts  and  caprioles,  to  the  great  distress  of  his  rider, 
but  to  the  infinite  amusement  of  the  Indians,  he  appeared 
to  take  compassion  on  his  rider,  and  falling  into  a line 
with  the  other  horses,  avoided  the  brambles  entirely,  and 
went  on  very  well.  In  this  manner  he  rode  through  the 
day.  At  night  he  was  taken  from  the  horse  and  confined 
as  before. 

On  the  third  day,  they  came  within  a few  miles  of  Chilli- 
cothe.  Here  the  party  halted,  and  despatched  a messen- 
ger to  inform  the  village  of  their  arrival,  in  order,  I sup- 
pose, to  give  them  time  to  prepare  for  his  reception.  In 
a short  time  Blackfish,  one  of  their  chiefs,  arrived,  and  ra- 
garding  Kenton  with  a stern  countenance,  thundered  out 
in  very  good  English,  “you  have  been  stealing  horses?’* 
“Yes  sir.”  “Did  Captain  Boone  tell  you  to  steal  our 
horses?”  “No  sir;  I did  it  of  my  own  accord.”  This  frank 
confession  was  two  irritating  to  be  borne.  Blackfish 
made  no  reply,  but  brandishing  a hickory  switch,  which 
he  held  in  his  hand,  he  applied  it  so  briskly  to  Kenton’* 
naked  back  and  shoulders,  as  to  bring  the  blood  freely,  and 
occasion  acute  pain. 

Thus,  alternately  beaten  and  scolded,  ho  marched  on  to 


SIMON  KENTON. 


97 


the  village.  At  the  distance  of  a mile  from  Chillicothe, 
he  saw  every  inhabitant  of  the  town,  men,  women,  and 
children,  running  out  to  feast  their  eyes  with  a view  of 
the  prisoner.  Every  individual,  down  to  the  smallest 
child,  appeared  in  a paroxysm  of  rage.  They  whooped, 
they  yelled,  they  hooted,  they  clapped  their  hands,  and 
poured  upon  him  a flood  of  abuse  to  which  all  that  he  had 
yet  received,  was  gentleness  and  civility.  With  loud 
cries,  they  demanded  that  their  prisoner  should  be  tied  to 
the  stake.  The  hint  was  instantly  complied  with. 

A stake  was  quickly  fastened  into  the  ground.  The 
remnant  of  Kenton’s  shirt  and  breeches  were  torn  from 
his  person,  (the  squaws  officiating  with  great  dexterity  in 
both  operations,)  and  his  hands  being  tied  together,  and 
raised  above  his  head,  were  fastened  to  the  top  of  the 
stake.  The  whole  party  then  danced  around  him  until 
midnight,  yelling  and  screaming  in  their  usual  frantic 
manner,  striking  him  with  switches,  and  slapping  him  with 
the  palms  of  their  hands.  He  expected  every  moment  to 
undergo  the  torture  of  fire,  but  that  was  reserved  for  another 
time.  They  wished  to  prolong  the  pleasure  of  tormenting 
nim  as  much  as  possible,  and  after  having  caused  him  to 
anticipate  the  bitterness  of  death,  until  a late  hour  of  the 
night,  they  released  him  from  the  stake  and  conveyed  him 
to  the  village. 

Early  in  the  morning  he  beheld  the  scalp  of  Montgom- 
ery stretched  upon  a hoop,  and  drying  in  the  air,  before  the 
door  of  one  of  their  principal  houses.  He  was  quickly  led 
out  and  ordered  to  run  the  gauntlet.  A row  of  boys,  wo- 
men, and  men,  extended  to  the  distance  of  a quarter  of  a 
mile.  At  the  starting  place,  stood  two  grim  looking  war- 
riors, with  butcher  knives  in  their  hands ; at  the  extremity 
of  the  line,  was  an  Indian  beating  a drum;  and  a few  pa- 
ces beyond  the  drum,  was  the  door  of  the  council  house. 
Clubs,  switches,  hoe-handles,  and  tomahawks  were  bran- 
dished along  the  whole  line,  causing  the  sweat  involun- 
tarily to  stream  from  his  pores,  at  the  idea  of  the  discipline 
which  his  naked  skin  was  to  receive  during  the  race. 

The  moment  for  starting  arrived;  the  great  drum  at  the 
door  of  the  council  house  was  struck ; and  Kenton  sprung 


93 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


forward  in  the  race.  A scene,  precisely  resembling  a 
splendid  picture  in  the  Last  of  the  Mohicans,  now  took 
place.  Kenton  avoided  the  row  of  his  enemies,  and  turn 
ing  to  the  east,  drew  the  whole  party  in  pursuit  of  him. 
He  doubled  several  times  with  great  activity,  and  at 
length  observing  an  opening,  he  darted  through  it,  and 
pressed  forward  to  the  council  house  with  a rapidity 
which  left  his  pursuers  far  behind.  One  or  two  of  the  In- 
dians succeeded  in  throwing  themselves  between  him  and 
the  goal,  and  from  these  alone  he  received  a few  blows, 
but  was  much  less  injured  than  he  could  at  first  have  sup- 
posed possible. 

As  soon  as  the  race  was  over,  a council  was  held  in  or- 
der to  determine  whether  he  should  be  burnt  to  death  on 
the  spot,  or  carried  round  to  the  other  villages,  and  exhibit- 
ed to  every  tribe.  The  arbiters  of  his  fate,  sat  in  a cir- 
cle on  the  floor  of  the  council  house,  while  the  unhappy 
prisoner,  naked  and  bound,  was  committed  to  the  care  of 
a guard  in  the  open  air.  The  deliberation  commenced. 
Each  warrior  sat  in  silence,  while  a large  war  club  was 
passed  round  the  circle.  Those  who  were  opposed  to 
burning  the  prisoner  on  the  spot,  were  to  pass  the  club  in 
silence  to  the  next  warrior,  those  in  favor  of  burning, 
were  to  strike  the  earth  violently  with  the  club  before 
passing  it. 

A teller  was  appointed  to  count  the  votes.  This  dig- 
nitary quickly  reported  that  the  opposition  had  prevailed; 
that  his  execution  was  suspended  for  the  present;  and 
that  it  was  determined  to  take  him  to  an  Indian  town  on 
Mad  river,  called  Waughcotomoco.  His  fate  was  quickly 
announced  to  him  by  a renegado  white  man,  who  acted  as 
interpreter,  Kenton  felt  rejoiced  at  the  issue  — but  nat- 
urally became  anxious  to  know  what  was  in  reserve  for  him 
at  Waughcotomoco.  He  accordingly  asked  the  white  man 
“what  the  Indians  intended  to  do  with  him,  upon  reach- 
ing the  appointed  place?”  “Burn  you!  G— d d n 

you!!!”  was  the  ferocious  reply.  He  asked  no  farther 
question,  and  the  scowling  interpreter  walked  away. 

Instantly  preparations  were  made  for  his  departure,  and 
to  his  great  joy,  as  well  as  astonishment,  his  clothes  were 


T 


SIMON  KENTON. 


99 


restored  to  him,  and  he  was  permitted  to  remain  unbound. 
Thanks  to  the  ferocious  intimation  of  the  interpreter,  he 
was  aware  of  the  fate  in  reserve  for  him,  and  secretly  de- 
termined that  he  would  never  reach  Waughcotomoco  alive 
if  it  was  possible  to  avoid  it.  Their  route  lay  through  an 
unpruned  forest,  abounding  in  thickets  and  undergrowth. 
Unbound  as  he  was,  it  would  not  be  impossible  to  escape 
from  the  hands  of  his  conductors;  and  if  he  could  once 
enter  the  thickets,  he  thought  that  he  might  be  enabled  to 
baffle  his  pursuers.  At  the  worst,  he  could  only  be  reta- 
ken— and  the  fire  would  burn  no  hotter  after  an  attempt 
to  escape,  than  before.  During  the  whole  of  their  march, 
he  remained  abstracted  and  silent;  often  meditating  an 
effort  for  liberty,  and  as  often  shrinking  from  the  peril  of 
the  attempt. 

At  length  he  was  aroused  from  his  reverie,  by  the  Indi- 
ans firing  off  their  guns,  and  raising  the  shrill  scalp  halloo. 
The  signal  was  soon  answered,  and  the  deep  roll  of  a 
drum  was  heard  far  in  front,  announcing  to  the  unhappy 
prisoner,  that  they  were  approaching  an  Indian  town  where 
the  gauntlet,  certainly,  and  perhaps  the  stake  awraited  him. 
The  idea  of  a repetition  of  the  dreadful  scenes  which  he 
uad  already  encountered,  completely  banished  the  indecis- 
ion which  had  hitherto  withheld  him,  and  with  a sudden 
and  startling  cry,  he  sprung  into  the  bushes  and  fled  with 
the  speed  of  a wild  deer.  The  pursuit  was  instant  and 
keen,  some  on  foot,  some  on  horseback.  But  he  was  fly- 
ing for  his  life;  the  stake  and  the  hot  iron,  and  the  burn- 
ing splinters,  were  before  his  eyes,  and  he  soon  distanced 
the  swiftest  hunter  that  pursued  him. 

But  fate  was  against  him  at  every  turn.  Thinking  only 
of  the  enemy  behind,  he  forgot  that  there  might  also  be 
enemies  before;  and  before  he  was  aware  of  what  he  had 
done,  he  found  that  he  had  plunged  into  the  center  of  a 
fresh  party  of  horsemen,  who  had  sallied  from  the  town  at 
the  firing  of  the  guns,  and  happened  unfortunately  to 
stumble  upon  the  poor  prisoner,  now  making  a last  effort 
for  freedom.  His  heart  sunk  at  once  from  the  ardor  of  hope, 
to  the  very  pit  of  despair,  and  he  was  again  haltered  and 
driven  before  them  to  town  like  an  ox  to  the  slaughter-house. 


100 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


Upon  reaching  the  village,  (Pickaway,)  he  was  fastened 
to  a stake  near  the  door  of  the  council  house,  and  the  war- 
riors again  assembled  in  debate.  In  a short  time,  they 
issued  from  the  council  house,  and  surrounding  him,  they 
danced,  yelled,  &c.  for  several  hours,  giving  kim  once  more 
a foretaste  of  the  bitterness  of  death.  On  the  following 
morning,  their  journey  was  continued,  but  the  Indians  had 
now  become  watchful,  and  gave  him  no  opportunity  of 
even  attempting  an  escape.  On  the  second  day,  he  ar- 
rived at  Waughcotomoco.  Here  he  was  again  compelled 
to  run  the  gauntlet,  in  which  he  was  severely  hurt:  and 
immediately  after  this  ceremony,  he  was  taken  to  the 
council  house,  and  all  the  warriors  once  more  assembled 
to  determine  his  fate. 

He  sat  silent  and  dejected  upon  the  floor  of  the  cabin, 
awaiting  the  moment  which  was  to  deliver  him  to  the 
stake,  when  the  door  of  the  council  house  opened,  and 
Simon  Girty,  James  Girty,  John  Ward,  and  an  Indian, 
came  in  with  a woman  (Mrs.  Mary  Kennedy,)  as  a prisoner, 
together  with  seven  children  and  seven  scalps.  Kenton  was 
instantly  removed  from  the  council  house,  and  the  delibera- 
tions of  the  assembly  were  protracted  to  a very  late  hour, 
in  consequence  of  the  arrival  of  the  last  named  party 
with  a fresh  drove  of  prisoners. 

At  length  he  was  again  summoned  to  attend  the  coun- 
cil house,  being  informed  that  his  fate  was  decided.  Re- 
garding the  mandate  as  a mere  prelude  to  the  stake  and 
fire,  which  he  knew  was  intended  for  him,  he  obeyed  it 
with  the  calm  despair  which  had  now  succeeded  the  burn- 
ing anxiety  of  the  last  few  days.  Upon  entering  the 
council  house,  he  was  greeted  with  a savage  scowl,  which, 
if  he  had  still  cherished  a spark  of  hope,  would  have  com- 
pletely extinguished  it.  Simon  Girty  threw  a blanket  up- 
on the  floor,  and  harshly  ordered  him  to  take  a seat  upon 
it.  The  order  was  not  immediately  complied  with,  and 
Girty  impatiently  seizing  his  arm,  jerked  him  roughly  upon 
the  blanket,  and  pulled  him  down  upon  it. 

In  the  same  rough  and  menacing  tone,*  Girty  then  in- 
terrogated him  as  to  the  condition  of  Kentucky.  “ How 
many  men  are  there  in  Ke^fesokyl”  “It  is  impossible 


SIMON  KENTON. 


101 


fcr  me  to  answer  that  question,”  replied  Kenton,  “but  I 
can  tell  you  the  number  of  officers  and  their  respective 
ranks;  you  can  then  judge  for  yourself.”  “Do  you  know 
William  Stewart?”  “Perfectly  well;  he  is  an  old  and  in- 
timate acquaintance.”  “ What  is  your  own  name?”  “ Si- 
mon Butler!”  replied  Kenton.  Never  did  the  annuncia- 
tion of  a name  produce  a more  powerful  effect.  Girty  and 
Kenton  (then  bearing  the  name  of  Butler,)  had  served  as 
spies  together,  in  Dunmore’s  expedition.  The  former  had 
not  then  abandoned  the  society  of  the  whites  for  that  of 
the  savages,  and  had  become  warmly  attached  to  Kenton  du- 
ring the  short  period  of  their  services  together.  As  soon 
as  he  heard  the  name  he  became  strongly  agitated;  and, 
gpringing  from  his  seat,  he  threw  his  arms  around  Ken- 
ton’s neck,  and  embraced  him  with  much  emotion. 

Then  turning  to  the  assembled  warriors,  who  remained 
astonished  spectators  of  this  extraordinary  scene,  he  ad- 
dressed them  in  a short  speech,  which  the  deep  earnest- 
ness of  his  tone,  and  the  energy  of  his  gesture,  rendered 
eloquent.  He  informed  them  that  the  prisoner,  whom 
they  had  just  condemned  to  the  stake,  was  his  ancient  com- 
rade and  bosom  friend:  that  they  had  traveled  the  same 
war  path,  slept  upon  the  same  blanket,  and  dwelt  in  the 
game  wigwam.  He  entreated  them  to  have  compassion 
upon  his  feelings;  to  spare  him  the  agony  of  witnessing 
the  torture  of  an  old  friend,  by  the  hands  of  his  adopted 
brothers;  and  not  to  refuse  so  trifling  a favor  as  the  life  of 
a white  man,  to  the  earnest  intercession  of  one  who  had 
proved  by  three  years  faithful  service,  that  he  was  sincere- 
ly and  zealously  devoted  to  the  cause  of  the  Indians* 

The  speech  was  listened  to,  in  unbroken  silence.  As 
goon  as  he  had  finished,  several  chiefs  expressed  their  ap- 
probation by  a deep  guttural  interjection,  while  others  were 
equally  as  forward  in  making  known  their  objections  to 
the  proposal.  They  urged  that  his  fate  had  already  been 
determined  in  a large  and  solemn  council,  and  that  they 
woulr  be  acting  like  squaws  to  change  their  minds  every 
hour.  They  insisted  upon  the  flagrant  misdemeanors  of 
Kenton  ; that  he  had  not  only  stolen  their  horses,  but  had 
flashed  his  gun  at  one  of  their  young  men ; that  it  was  in 


102 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


vain  to  suppose  that  so  bad  a man  could  ever  become  an 
Indian  at  heart,  like  their  brother  Girty;  that  the  Ken- 
tuckians were  all  alike,  very  bad  people,  and  ought  to  be 
killed  as  fast  as  they  were  taken;  and,  finally,  they  ob- 
served that  many  of  their  people  had  come  from  a distance, 
solely  to  assist  at  the  torture  of  the  prisoner,  and  patheti- 
cally painted  the  disappointment  and  chagrin  with  which 
they  would  hear  that  all  their  trouble  had  been  for  noth- 
ing. 

Girty  listened  with  obvious  impatience  to  the  young 
warriors,  who  had  so  ably  argued  against  a reprieve  — and 
starting  to  his  feet,  as  soon  as  the  others  had  concluded, 
he  urged  his  former  request  with  great  earnestness.  He 
briefly,  but  strongly  recapitulated  his  own  services,  and 
the  many  and  weighty  instances  of  attachment  which  he 
had  given.  He  asked  if  he  could  be  suspected  of  partial- 
ity to  the  whites?  When  had  he  ever  before  interceded 
for  any  of  that  hated  race?  Had  he  not  brought  seven 
scalps  home  with  him  from  the  last  expedition?  and  had  he 
not  submitted  seven  white  prisoners  that  very  evening  to 
their  discretion?  Had  he  expressed  a wish  that  a single 
one  of  the  captives  should  be  saved?  This  was  his  first 
and  should  be  his  last  request:  . for  if  they  refused  to  him , 
what  was  never  refused  to  the  intercession  of  one  of  their 
natural  chiefs,  he  would  look  upon  himself  as  disgraced  in 
their  eyes,  and  considered  as  unworthy  of  confidence. 
Which  of  their  own  natural  warriors  had  been  more  zeal- 
ous than  himself?  From  what  expedition  had  he  ever 
shrunk?  what  white  man  had  ever  seen  his  back?  Whose 
tomahawk  had  be£n  bloodier  than  his?  He  would  say  no 
more.  He  asked  it  as  a first  and  last  favor;  as  an  evidence 
that  they  approved  of  his  zeal  and  fidelity,  that  the  life  of 
his  bosom  friend  might  be  spared.  Fresh  speakers  arose 
upon  each  side,  and  the  debate  was  carried  on  for  an  hour 
and  a half  with  great  heat  and  energy. 

During  the  whole  of  this  time,  Kenton’s  feelings  may 
eadily  be  imagined.  He  could  not  understand  a syllable 
of  what  was  said.  He  saw  that  Girty  spoke  with  deep 
earnestness,  and  that  the  eyes  of  the  assembly  were  often 
turned  upon  himself  with  various  expressions.  He  felt 


SIMON  KENTON. 


103 


satisfied  that  his  friend  was  pleading  for  his  life,  and  that 
he  was  violently  opposed  by  a large  part  of  the  council 
At  length,  the  war  club  was  produced  and  the  final  vote 
taken.  Kenton  watched  its  progress  with  thrilling  emo- 
tion, which  yielded  to  the  most  rapturous  delight,  as  he 
perceived,  that  those  who  struck  the  floor  of  the  council 
house,  were  decidedly  inferior  in  number  to  those  who 
passed  it  in  silence.  Having  thus  succeeded  in  his  be- 
nevolent purpose,  Girty  lost  no  time  in  attending  to  the 
comfort  of  his  friend.  He  led  him  into  his  own  wigwam, 
and  from  his  own  store  gave  him  a pair  of  moccasins  and 
leggins,  a breech-cloth,  a hat,  a coat,  a handkerchief  for 
his  neck,  and  another  for  his  head. 

The  wrhole  of  this  remarkable  scene  is  in  the  highest 
degree  honorable  to  Girty,  and  is  in  striking  contrast  to 
most  of  his  conduct  after  his  union  with  the  Indians.  No 
man  can  be  completely  hardened,  and  no  character  is  at 
all  times  the  same.  Girty  had  been  deeply  offended  with 
the  whites ; and  knowing  that  his  desertion  to  the  Indians 
had  been  universally  and  severely  reprobated,  and  that  he 
himself  was  regarded  with  detestation  by  his  former  coum 
trymen,  he  'seems  to  have  raged  against  them  from  these 
causes,  with  a fury  which  resembled  rather  the  paroxysm 
of  a maniac,  than  the  deliberate  cruelty  of  a naturally  fe- 
rocious temper.  Fierce  censure  never  reclaims,  but  rath- 
er drives  to  still  greater  extremities;  and  this  is  the  rea- 
son that  renegadoes  are  so  much  fiercer  than  natural  foes  — 
and  that  when  females  fall,  they  fall  irretrievably. 

For  the  space  of  three  weeks,  Kenton  lived  in  perfect 
tranquillity.  Girtv’s  kindness  was  uniform  and  indefati- 
gable. He  introduced  Kenton  to  his  own  family,  and  ac- 
companied him  to  the  wigwams  of  the  principal  chiefs, 
who  seemed  all  at  once  to  have  turned  from  the  extremity 
of  rage  to  the  utmost  kindness  and  cordiality  Fortune, 
however,  seemed  to  have  selected  him  for  her  football,  and 
to  have  snatched  him  from  the  frying  pan  only  to  throw 
him  into  the  fire.  About  twenty  days  after  his  most  provi- 
dential deliverance  from  the  stake,  he  was  walking  in  com- 
pany with  Girty  and  an  Indian  named  Redpole,  when  an- 
other Indian  came  from  the  village  towards  them,  uttering 


104 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


repeatedly  a whoop  of  peculiar  intonation.  Girty  instant- 
ly told  Kenton  that  it  was  the  distress  halloo,  and  tha 
they  must  all  go  instantly  to  the  council  house.  Kenton’s 
heart  involuntarily  fluttered  at  the  intelligence,  for  he 
dreaded  all  w7hoops,  and  hated  all  council  houses,  firmly 
believing  that  neither  boded  him  any  good.  Nothing, 
however,  could  be  done,  to  avoid  whatever  fate  awTaited 
him,  and  he  sadly  accompanied  Girty  and  Redpole  back 
to  the  village. 

Upon  approaching  the  Indian  who  had  hallood,  Girty 
and  Redpole  shook  hands  with  him.  Kenton  likewise 
offered  his  hand,  but  the  Indian  refused  to  take  it,  at  the 
same  time  scowling  upon  him  ominously.  This  took 
place  within  a few  paces  of  the  door  of  the  council  house. 
Upon  entering,  they  saw  that  the  house  w7as  unusually 
full.  Many  chiefs  and  warriors  from  the  distant  towns 
were  present;  and  their  countenances  were  grave,  severe, 
and  forbidding.  Girty,  Redpole,  and  Kenton,  walked 
around,  offering  their  hands  successively  to  each  warrior. 
The  hands  of  the  two  first  were  cordially  received;  but 
when  poor  Kenton  anxiously  offered  his  hand  to  the  first 
warrior,  it  was  rejected  with  the  same  scowling  eye  as 
before.  He  passed  on  to  the  second,  but  w^as  still  rejected: 
he  persevered,  however,  until  his  hand  had  been  refused 
by  the  first  six;  when,  sinking  into  despondence,  he  turned 
off  and  stood  apart  from  the  rest. 

The  debate  quickly  commenced.  Kenton  looked  ea- 
gerly towards  Girty,  as  his  last  and  only  hope.  His  friend 
looked  anxious  and  distressed.  The  chiefs  from  a distance 
arose  one  after  another,  and  spoke  in  a firm  and  indignant 
tone,  often  looking  at  Kenton  with  an  eye  of  death.  Girty 
did  not  desert  him,  but  his  eloquence  appeared  wasted  upon 
the  distant  chiefs.  After  a warm  debate,  he  turned  to 
Kenton  and  said,  “well!  my  friend!  you  must  die!”  One 
of  the  stranger  chiefs  instantly  seized  him  by  the  collar, 
and  the  others  surrounding  him,  he  was  strongly  pinioned, 
committed  to  a guard,  and  instantly  marched  off. 

His  guard  w ere  on  horseback,  while  the  prisoner  waa 
driven  before  them  on  foot,  with  a long  rope  round  his  neck, 
the  other  end  of  which  wTas  held  by  one  of  the  guard.  In 


SIMON  KEKTON. 


105 


this  manner  they  had  marched  about  two  and  a half  miles, 
when  Girty  passed  them  on  horseback,  informing  Kenton 
that  he  had  friends  at  the  next  village,  with  whose  aid  he 
hoped  to  be  able  to  do  something  for  him.  Girty  passed 
on  to  the  town,  but  finding  that  nothing  could  be  done, 
he  would  not  see  his  friend  again,  but  returned  to  Waugh- 
cotomoco  by  a different  route. 

They  passed  through  the  village  without  halting,  and  at 
the  distance  of  twTo  and  a half  miles  beyond  it,  Kenton  had 
again  an  opportunity  of  witnessing  the  fierce  hate  with  which 
these  children  of  nature  regard  an  enemy.  At  the  distance 
of  a few  paces  from  the  road,  a squaw  was  busily  engaged 
in  chopping  wood,  while  her  lord  and  master  was  sitting 
on  a log,  smoking  his  pipe  and  directing  her  labors,  with 
the  indolent  indifference  common  to  the  natives,  when  not 
under  the  influence  of  some  exciting  passion.  The  sight 
of  Kenton,  however,  seemed  to  rouse  him  to  fury.  He 
hastily  sprung  up,  with  a sudden  yell,  snatched  the  axe 
from  the  squaw,  and  rushing  upon  the  prisoner  so  rapidly 
as  to  give  him  no  opportunity  of  escape,  dealt  him  a blow 
with  the  axe  which  cut  through  his  shoulder,  breaking  the 
bone  and  almost  severing  the  arm  from  his  body.  He 
would  instantly  have  repeated  the  blow,  had  not  Kenton’s 
conductors  interfered  and  protected  him,  severely  repri- 
manding the  Indian  for  attempting  to  rob  them  of  the 
amusement  of  torturing  the  prisoner  at 

They  soon  reached  a large  village  upon  the  head  waters 
of  Scioto,  where  Kenton,  for  the  first  time,  beheld  the  cele- 
brated Mingo  Chief,  Logan,  so  honorably  mentioned  in 
Mr.  Jefferson’s  Notes  on  Virginia.  Logan  walked  grave- 
ly up  to  the  place  where  Kenton  stood,  and  the  following 
short  conversation  ensued : “Well,  young  man,  these  young 
men  seem  very  mad  at  you?”  “Yes,  sir,  they  certainly 
are.”  “Well!  don’t  be  disheartened,  I am  a great  chief; 
you  are  to  go  to  Sandusky;  they  speak  of  burning  you 
ther3;  but  I will  send  two  runners  to-morrow  to  speak  good 
for  you.”  Logan’s  form  was  striking  and  manly,  his 
countenance  calm  and  noble,  and  he  spoke  the  English 
language  with  fluency  and  correctness.  Kenton’s  spirits 
instantly  rose  at  the  address  of  tho  benevolent  chie^  and 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


106 

he  once  more  looked  upon  himself  as  providentially  rescues 
from  the  stake. 

On  the  following  morning,  two  runners  were  despatch- 
ed to  Sandusky,  as  the  chief  had  promised,  and  until  their 
return,  Kenton  was  kindly  treated,  being  permitted  to 
spend  much  of  his  time  with  Logan,  who  conversed  with 
him  freely,  and  in  the  most  friendly  manner.  In  the  eve- 
ning, the  two  runners  returned,  and  were  closeted  with 
Logan.  Kenton  felt  the  most  burning  anxiety  to  know 
what  was  the  result  of  their  mission,  but  Logan  did  not 
visit  him  again  until  the  next  morning.  He  then  walked 
up  to  him,  accompanied  by  Kenton’s  guards,  and  giving  him 
a piece  of  bread,  told  him  that  he  was  instantly  to  be  car- 
ried to  Sandusky;  and  without  uttering  another  word, 
turned  upon  bis  heel  and  left  him. 

Again,  Kenton’s  spirits  sunk.  From  Logan’s  manner, 
he  supposed  that  his  intercession  had  been  unavailing,  and 
that  Sandusky  was  destined  to  be  the  scene  of  his  final 
suffering.  This  appears  to  have  been  the  truth.  But 
fortune  who,  to  use  Lord  Lovat’s  expression,  had  been 
playing  at  cat  and  mouse  with  him  for  the  last  month,  had 
selected  Sandusky  for  the  display  of  her  strange  and  ca~ 
pricious  power.  He  was  driven  into  the  town,,  as  usuaj,. 
and  was  to  have  been  burnt  on  the  following  morning, 
when  an  Indian  Agent,  named  Drewyer,  interposed,  and 
once  more  rescued  him  from  the  stake.  He  was  anxious 
to  obtain  intelligence,  for  the  British  commandant  at  De- 
troit; and  so  earnestly  insisted  upon  Kenton’s  being  deliv- 
ered up  to  him,  that  the  Indians  at  length  consented  upon 
the  express  condition  that  after  the  required  information 
had  been  obtained,  he  should  again  be  placed  at  their  dis- 
cretion. To  this  Drewyer  consented,  and  without  further 
difficulty,  Kenton  was  transferred  to  his  hands.  Drewyer 
lost  no  time  in  removing  him  to  Detroit. 

On  the  road,  he  informed  Kenton  of  the  condition  upon 
which  he  had  obtained  possession  of  his  person,  assuring 
him,  however,  that  no  consideration  should  induce  him  to 
abandon  a prisoner  to  the  mercy  of  such  wretches.  Having 
dwelt  at  some  lengfh  upon  the  generosity  of  his  own  dis- 
position, and  having  sufficiently  magnified  the  service  which.. 


SIMON  KENTON. 


m 

he  had  just  rendered  him,  he  began,  at  length,  to  cross 
question  Kenton  as  to  the  force  and  condition  of  Kentucky, 
and  particularly  as  to  the  number  of  men  at  Fort  McIntosh 
Kenton  very  candidly  declared  his  inability  to  answer  ei- 
ther question,  observing,  that*  he  was  merely  a private, 
and  by  no  means  acquainted  with  matters  of  an  enlarged 
and  general  import,*  that  his  great  business  had  hereto- 
fore been,  to  endeavor  to  take  care  of  himself,  which  he 
Dad  found  a work  of  no  small  difficulty.  Drewyer  replied, 
that  he  believed  him,  and  from  that  time  Kenton  was  trou 
bled  with  no  more  questions. 

His  condition  at  Detroit  was  not  unpleasant.  He  was 
compelled  to  report  himself  every  morning,  to  an  English 
officer,  and  was  restricted  to  certain  boundaries  through 
the  day;  but  in  other  respects,  he  scarcely  felt  that  he 
was  a prisoner.  His  battered  body  and  broken  arm,  were 
quickly  repaired,  and  his  emaciated  limbs  were  again  cloth 
ed  with  a proper  proportion  of  flesh.  He  remained  in 
this  state  of  easy  restraint  from  October,  1777,  until  June 
1778,  when  he  meditated  an  escape.  There  was  no  diffi- 
culty in  leaving  Detroit;  but  he  would  be  compelled  to 
traverse  a wilderness  of  more  than  two  hundred  miles, 
abounding  with  hostile  Indians,  and  affording  no  means  of 
subsistence,  beyond  the  wild  game,  which  could  not  be  killed 
without  a gun.  In  addition  to  this,  he  would  certainly 
be  pursued,  and  if  retaken  by  the-  Indians,  he  might  ex- 
pect a repetition  of  all  that  he  had  undergone  before, 
without  the  prospect  of  a second  interposition  on  the  part 
of  the  English. 

These  considerations  deterred  him,  for  some  time,  from 
the  attempt,  but  at  length  his  impatience  became  uncon- 
trollable, and  he  determined  to  escape  or  perish  in  the  at- 
tempt. He  took  his  measures  with  equal  secrecy  and 
foresight.  He  cautiously  sounded  two  young  Kentuck- 
ians, then  at  Detroit,  who  had  been  taken  with  Boone  at 
the  Blue  Licks,  and  had  been  purchased  by  the  British. 
He  found  them  as  impatient  as  himself  of  captivity,  and 
resolute  to  accompany  him.  Charging  them  not  to  breathe 
a syllable  of  their  design  to  any  other  prisoners,  he  bu- 
sied himself  for  several  days  in  making  the  necessary? 


108 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


preparations.  It  was  absolutely  necessary  that  they 
should  be  provided  with  arms,  both  for  the  sake  of  repel 
ling  attack,  and  procuring  the  means  of  subsistence;  and, 
at  the  same  time,  it  was  very  difficult  to  obtain  them, 
without  the  knowledge  of  the  British  commandant. 

By  patiently  waiting  their  opportunity,  however,  all 
these  preliminary  difficulties  were  overcome.  Kenton 
formed  a close  friendship  with  two  Indian  hunters,  deluged 
them  with  rum,  and  bought  their  guns  for  a mere  trifle. 
After  carefully  hiding  them  in  the  woods,  he  returned  to 
Detroit,  and  managed  to  procure  another  rifle,  together 
with  powder  and  balls,  from  a Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edgar,  citi- 
zens of  the  town.  They  then  appointed  a night  for  the 
attempt,  and  agreed  upon  a place  of  rendezvous.  All 
things  turned  out  prosperously.  They  met  at  the  time 
and  place  appointed,  without  discovery,  and  taking  a cir- 
cuitous route,  avoided  pursuit,  and  travelling  only  during 
the  night,  they  at  length  arrived  safely  at  Louisville,  after 
march  of  thirty  days. 

Thus  terminated  one  of  the  most  remarkable  adven- 
tures in  the  whole  range  of  western  history.  A fatalist 
would  recognize  the  hand  of  destiny  in  every  stage  of  its 
progress.  In  the  infatuation  with  which  Kenton  refused 
to  adopt  proper  measures  for  his  safety,  wffiile  such  were 
practicable;  in  the  persevering  obstinacy  with  which  he 
remained  upon  the  Ohio  shore,  until  flight  became  useless ; 
and  afterwards,  in  that  remarkable  succession  of  accidents, 
by  w hich,  without  the  least  exertion  on  his  part,  he  was 
alternately  tantalized  with  a prospect  of  safety,  and  then 
plunged  again  into  the  deepest  despair.  He  was  eight 
times  exposed  to  the  gauntlet,  three  times  tied  to  the  stake, 
and  as  often  thought  himself  upon  the  eve  of  a terrible 
death. 

All  the  sentences  passed  upon  him,  whether  of  mercy 
or  condemnation,  seemed  to  have  been  only  pronounced 
in  one  council,  in  order  to  be  reversed  in  another.  Every 
friend  that  Providence  raised  up  in  his  favor,  was  imme- 
diately followed  by  some  enemy,  who  unexpectedly  inter- 
posed, and  turned  his  short  glimpse  of  sunshine  into  deep- 
er darkness  than  ever.  For  three  weeks,  he  was  see-saw- 


BENJAMIN  LOGAN. 


10* 

ing  between  life  and  death,  and  during  the  whole  time,  he 
was  perfectly  passive.  No  wisdom,  or  foresight,  or  exer- 
tion, could  have  saved  him.  Fortune  fought  his  battle 
from  first  to  last,  and  seemed  determined  to  permit  noth 
ing  else  to  interfere.  Scarcely  had  he  reached  Kentucky 
when  he  embarked  in  a new  enterprise. 

Colonel  George  Rogers  Clark  had  projected  an  expedi 
tion  against  the  hostile  posts  of  Vincennes  and  Kaskaskia, 
and  invited  all  Kentuckians,  who  had  leisure  and  inclina 
tion,  to  join  him.  Kenton  instantly  repaired  to  his  stan- 
dard, and  shared  in  the  hardship  and  glory  of  one  of  the 
boldest,  most  arduous  and  successful  expeditions,  which 
have  ever  graced  the  American  arms.  The  results  of  the 
campaign  are  well  known.  Secrecy  and  celerity  were 
eminently  combined  in  it,  and  Clark  shared  with  the  com- 
mon soldier,  in  encountering  every  fatigue,  and  braving 
every  danger.  Kenton,  as  usual,  acted  as  a spy,  and  wae 
eminently  serviceable,  but  no  incident  occurred,  of  suffi- 
cient importance  to  obtain  a place*  in  these  sketches. 

From  that  time,  until  the  close  of  the  Indian  war  m 
the  west,  Kenton  was  actively  employed,  generally  in  a 
frontier  station,  and  occasionally  in  serious  expeditions. 
He  accompanied  Edwards  in  his  abortive  expedition  against 
the  Indian  towns,  in  1785,  and  shared  in  Wayne’s  decisive 
campaign  of  1794.  But,  as  his  life  will  shortly  be  pub- 
lished, in  a separate  volume,  it  is  unnecessary  to  pursue 
the  subject  farther  in  a sketch  like  the  present.  He  is 
now  living  on  Mad  river,  in  the  Ohio  state,  near  the  scene 
of  his  former  adventures.  His  once  gigantic  form  is  now 
broken  by  age;  and  his  last  days  will  probably  be  spent 
in  poverty  and  neglect 


■ 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Among  the  earliest  and  most  respectable  of  the  emi 
grants  to  Kentucky,  was  General  Benjamin  Logan.  His 
father  was  an  Irishman,  who  had  left  his  own  country  ear 


110 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


ly  in  the  18ih  century,  and  settled  in  Pennsylvania,  from 
which  he  subsequently  removed  to  Augusta  county,  Vir- 
ginia. Here  he  shortly  afterwards  died.  Young  Logan, 
as  the  eldest  son,  was  entitled  by  the  laws  of  Virginia,  to 
the  whole  of  the  landed  property,  (his  father  having  died 
intestate.)  He  refused,  however,  to  avail  himself  of  this 
circumstance,  and  as  the  farm  upon  w hich  the  family  resi- 
ded wTas  too  small  to  admit  of  a division,  he  caused  it  to  be 
sold,  and  the  money  to  be  distributed  among  his  brothers 
and  sisters,  reserving  a portion  for  his  mother.  At  the 
age  of  twenty-one,  he  removed  from  Augusta  county,  to 
the  banks  of  the  Holston,  where  shortly  afterwards,  he 
purchased  a farm  and  married. 

In  1774  he  accompanied  Dunmore  in  his  expedition, 
probably  as  a private.  In  1775,  he  removed  to  Kentucky, 
and  soon  became  particularly  distinguished.  His  person 
was  striking  and  manly,  his  hair  and  complexion  very 
dark,  his  eye  keen  and  penetrating,  his  countenance  grave, 
thoughtful,  and  expressive  of  a firmness,  probity,  and  in- 
telligence, w hich  wrere  eminently  displayed  throughout  his 
life.  His  education  w7as  very  imperfect,  and  confined,  we 
believe,  simply,  to  the  arts  of  reading  and  wTriting.  Having 
remained  in  Kentucky,  in  a very  exposed  situation,  until 
the  spring  of  1776,  he  returned  for  his  family,  and  brought 
them  out  to  a small  settlement,  called  Logan’s  fort,  not 
far  from  Harrodsburgh.  The  Indians  during  this  summer 
were  so  numerous  and  daring  in  their  excursions,  that  Lo- 
gan was  compelled  to  remove  his  wife  and  family  for  safe- 
ty, to  Harrodsburgh,  w^hile  he  himself  remained  at  his 
cabins,  and  cultivated  a crop  of  corn. 

In  the  spring  of  1777,  his  wife  returned  to  Logan’s  fort; 
and  several  settlers  having  joined  him,  he  determined  to 
maintain  himself  there  at  all  risk.  His  courage  was  soon 
put  to  the  test.  On  the  morning  of  the  20th  May,  a few 
days  after  his  wTife  had  rejoined  him,  the  women  were 
milking  the  cows  at  the  gate  of  the  little  fort,  and  soma 
of  the  garrison  attending  them,  when  a party  of  Indians 
appeared  and  fired  upon  them.  One  man  was  shot  dead, 
and  two  more  wounded,  one  of  them  mortally.  The  whole 
{tarty,  including  one  of  the  wounded  men,,  instantly  ra a 


BFJNJAMLN  LOGA-Nt 


III 

into  the  fort  and  closed  the  gate.  The  enemy  quickly 
showed  themselves  upon  the  edge  of  a canebrake,  within 
close  rifle  shot  of  the  gate,  and  seemed  numerous  and  deter- 
mined. Having  a moment’s  leisure  to  look  around,  they 
beheld  a spectacle,  which  awakened  the  most  lively  inter- 
est and  compassion. 

A man  named  Harrison,  had  been  severely  wounded, 
and  still  lay  near  the  spot  where  he  had  fallen,  within  full 
view  both  of  the  garrison  and  the  enemy.  The  poor  fel- 
low was,  at  intervals,  endeavoring  to  crawl  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  fort,  and  had  succeeded  in  reaching  a cluster 
of  bushes,  which,  however,  were  too  thin  to  shelter  his 
person  from  the  enemy.  His  wife  and  family  were  in  the 
fort,  and  in  deep  distress  at  his  situation.  The  enemy  un- 
doubtedly forbore  to  fire  upon  him,  from  the  supposition 
that  some  of  the  garrison  would  attempt  to  save  him,  in 
which  case,  they  held  themselves  in  readiness  to  fire  upon 
them  from  the  canebrake.  The  case  was  a very  trying 
one.  It  seemed  impossible  to  save  him  without  sacrificing 
the  lives  of  several  of  the  garrison,  and  their  number* 
already  were  far  too  few  for  an  effectual  defence,  having 
originally  amounted  only  to  fifteen  men,  three  of  whom 
had  already  been  put  hors  de  combat . 

Yet  the  spectacle  was  so  moving,  and  the  lamentation 
of  his  family  so  distressing,  that  it  seemed  equally  impos- 
sible not  to  make  an  effort  to  relieve  him.  Logan  en- 
deavored to  persuade  some  of  his  men  to  accompany  him 
in  a sally,  but  so  evident  and  appalling  was  the  danger, 
that  all  at  first  refused;  one  Herculean  fellow  observing 
that  he  was  a “ weakly  man,”  and  another  declaring  that 
he  was  sorry  for  Harrison,  “but  that  the  skin  was  closer 
♦han  the  shirt.”  At  length,  John  Martin  collected  hk* 
courage,  and  declared  his  willingness  to  accompany  Logan, 
saying,  that  “ he  could  only  die  once,  and  that  he  was 
as  ready  now  as  he  ever  w^oukLbe.”  The  two  men  open- 
ed the  gate  and  started  upon  their  forlorn  expedition,  I<o 
gan  leading  the  wTay. 

They  had  not  advanced  five  steps,  when  Harrison  per- 
ceiving them,  made  a vigorous  effort  to  rise,  upon  which 
Martin,  supposing  him  able  to  help  himself,  immediately 


112 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


sprung  back  within  the  gate.  Harrison’s  strength  almost 
instantly  failed,  and  he  fell  at  full  length  upon  the  grass 
Logan  paused  a moment  after  the  desertion  of  Martin, 
then  suddenly  sprung  forward  to  the  spot  where  Harrison 
lay,  rushing  through  a tremendous  shower  of  rifle  balls, 
which  was  poured  upon  him  from  every  spot  around  the  fort, 
capable  of  covering  an  Indian.  Seizing  the  wounded  man 
hi  his  arms,  he  ran  with  him  to  the  fort,  through  the  same 
eavy  fire,  and  entered  it  unhurt,  although  the  gate  and 
icketing  near  him  were  riddled  with  balls,  and  his  hat 
and  clothes  pierced  in  several  places. 

The  fort  was  now  vigorously  assailed  in  the  Indian 
manner,  and  as  vigorously  defended  by  the  garrison.  The 
women  were  all  employed  in  moulding  bullets,  while  the 
men  were  constantly  at  their  posts.  The  weakness  of  the 
garrison  was  not  their  only  grievance.  A distressing  scarci- 
ty of  ammunition  prevailed,  and  no  supply  could  be  pro- 
cured nearer  than  Holston.  But  how  was  it  to  be  obtain- 
ed?  The  fort  was  closely  blockaded,  the  Indians  were 
swarming  in  the  woods,  and  chances  were  sadly  against 
the  probability  of  the  safe  passage  of  any  courier  through 
so  many  dangers!  Under  these  circumstances,  Logan  d^* 
termined  to  take  the  dangerous  office  upon  himself.  After 
encouraging  the  men  as  well  as  he  could,  with  the  pros- 
pect of  a safe  and  speedy  return,  he  took  advantage  of 
a dark  night,  and  crawled  through  the  Indian  encampment 
without  discovery. 

Shunning  the  ordinary  route  through  Cumberland  Gap, 
he  arrived  at  Holston  by  by-paths  which  no  white  man  had 
yet  trodden;  through  canebrakes  and  thickets;  over  tre- 
mendous cliffs  and  precipices,  where  the  deer  could 
scarcely  obtain  footing,  and  where  no  vestige  of  any  of  the 
human  family  could  be  seen.  Having  obtained  a supply 
of  powder  and  lead,  he  returned  through  the  same  almost  in- 
accessible paths  to  the  fort,  which  he  found  still  besieged, 
and  now  reduced  to  extremity.  The  safe  return  of  their 
leader  inspired  them  with  fresh  courage,  and  in  a few  days, 
the  appearance  of  Colonel  Bowman’s  party,  compelled  the 
Indians  to  retire. 

During  the  whole  of  this  and  the  next  year,  the  Indians 


BENJAMIN  LOGAiN. 


113 


were  exceedingly  troublesome.  The  Shawnees  particu- 
larly distinguished  themselves  by  the  frequency  and  invet- 
erate nature  of  their  incursions;  and  as  their  capital,  Chilli- 
cothe,  was  within  striking  distance,  an  expedition  was  set 
on  foot  against  it  in  1779,  in  which  Logan  served  as  sec- 
ond in  command.  Captain  James  Harrod  and  John  Bul- 
ger, accompanied  the  expedition;  the  former  of  whom, 
shortly  afterwards,  perished  in  a lonely  ramble;  and  the 
latter  was  killed  at  the  Blue  Licks.  Colonel  Bowman 
commanded  in  chief.  The  detachment  amounted  to  one 
hundred  and  sixty  men;  consisted  ^entirely  of  volunteers, 
accustomed  to  Indian  warfare,  and  was  well  officered,  with 
the  exception  of  its  commander. 

They  left  Harrodsburg  in  July,  and  took  their  prelimi- 
nary measures  so  well,  that  they  arrived  within  a mile  of 
Chillicothe,  without  giving  the  slightest  alarm  to  the  ene- 
my. Here  the  detachment  halted  at  an  early  hour  in  the 
night,  and  as  usual,  sent  out  spies  to  examine  the  condi- 
tion of  the  village.  Before  midnight  they  returned,  and 
reported  that  the  enemy  remained  unapprised  of  their  be- 
ing in  the  neighborhood,  and  were  in  the  most  unmilitary 
security.  The  army  was  instantly  put  in  motion.  It  was 
determined  that  Logan,  with  one  half  of  the  men,  should 
turn  to  the  left  and  march  half  way  around  the  town,  while 
Bowman,  at  the  head  of  the  remainder,  should  make  a cor- 
responding march  to  the  right;  that  both  parties  should 
proceed  in  silence,  until  they  had  met  at  the  opposite  ex- 
tremity of  the  village,  when  having  thus  completely  en- 
circled it,  the  attack  was  to  commence. 

Logan,  who  was  bravery  itself,  performed  his  part  of 
the  combined  operation,  with  perfect  order,  and  in  profound 
silence;  and  having  reached  the  designated  spot,  awaited 
with  impatience  the  arrival  of  his  commander.  Hour  af- 
ter  hour  stole  away,  but  Bowman  did  not  appear.  At 
length  daylight  appeared.  Logan  still  expecting  the  arri- 
val of  his  colonel,  ordered  the  men  to  conceal  themselves 
in  the  high  grass,  and  await  the  expected  signal  to  attack. 
No  orders,  however,  arrived.  In  the  mean  time,  the  men, 
in  shifting  about  through  the  grass,  alarmed  an  Indian  dog,, 
the  only  sentinel  on  dutv.  He  instantly  began  to  bay 


114 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


loudly,  and  advanced  in  the  direction  of  the  man  who 
had  attracted  his  attention.  Presently  a solitary  Indian 
left  his  cabin,  and  walked  cautiously  towards  the  party, 
halting  frequently,  rising  upon  tiptoes,  and  gazing  around 
him. 

Logan’s  party  lay  close,  with  the  hope  of  taking  him, 
without  giving  the  alarm;  but  at  that  instant  a gun  was 
fired  in  an  opposite  quarter  of  the  town,  as  was  afterwards 
ascertained  by  one  of  Bowman’s  party,  and  the  Indian, 
giving  one  shrill  whoop,  ran  swuftly  back  to  the  council 
house.  Concealment  was  now  impossible.  Logan’s  party 
instantly  sprung  up  from  the  grass,  and  rushed  upon  the  vil- 
lage, not  doubting  for  a moment  that,  they  would  be  gal- 
lantly supported.  As  they  advanced,  they  perceived  In- 
dians of  all  ages  and  of  both  sexes  running  to  the  great  cab- 
in, near  the  center  of  the  town,  where  they  collected  in 
full  force  and  appeared  determined  upon  an  obstinate  de- 
fence. Logan  instantly  took  possession  of  the  houses 
which  had  been  deserted,  and  rapidly  advancing  from  cabin 
to  cabin,  at  length  established  his  detachment  within  close 
rifle  shot  of  the  Indian  redoubt. 

He  now  listened  impatiently  for  the  firing  which  should 
have  been  heard  from  the  opposite  extremity  of  the  town, 
where  he  supposed  Bowman’s  party  to  be,  but  to  his  aston- 
ishment, every  thing  remained  quiet  in  that  quarter.  In 
the  mean  time  his  own  position  had  become  critical.  The 
Indians  had  recovered  from  their  panic,  and  kept  up  a 
close  and  heavy  fire  upon  the  cabins  which  covered  his 
men.  He  had  pushed  his  detachment  so  close  to  the  re- 
doubt, that  they  could  neither  advance  nor  retreat  without 
great  exposure.  The  enemy  outnumbered  him,  and  gave 
indications  of  a disposition  to  turn  both  flanks  of  his  posi- 
tion, and  thus  endanger  his  retreat. 

• Under  these  circumstances,  ignorant  of  the  condition 
of  his  commander,  and  cut  off  from  communication  with 
him,  he  formed  the  bold  and  judicious  resolution,  to  make 
a moveable  breast  work  of  the  planks  which  formed  the 
floor  of  the  cabins,  and  under  cover  of  it,  to  rush  upon 
the  strong  hold  of  the  enemy  and  carry  it  by  main  force. 
Had  this  gallant  determination  been  carried  into  effect, 


BENJAMIN  LOGAN. 


115 

and  had  the  movement  been  promptly  seconded,  as  it  ought 
to  have  been  by  Bowman,  the  conflict  would  have  been 
bloody,  and  the  victory  decisive.  Most  probably  not  an 
Indian  would  have  escaped,  and  the  consternation  which 
such  signal  vengeance  would  have  spread  throughout  the 
Indian  tribes,  might  have  repressed  their  incursions  for  a 
considerable  time.  But  before  the  necessary  steps  could 
be  taken,  a messenger  arrived  from  Bowman,  with  order* 
« to  retreat !” 

Astonished  at  such  an  order,  at  a time  when  honor  and 
*afety  required  an  offensive  movement  on  their  part,  Lo- 
gan hastily  asked  if  Bowman  had  been  overpowered  by  the 
enemy?  No!  Had  he  ever  beheld  an  enemy ? No!  What 
then,  was  the  cause  of  this  extraordinary  abandonment  of 
a design  so  prosperously  begun?  He  did  not  know:  the  Co- 
lonel had  ordered  a retreat!  Logan,  however  reluctantly, 
was  compelled  to  obey.  A retreat  is  always  a dispiriting 
movement,  and  with  militia,  is  almost  certain  to  terminate 
in  a complete  rout.  As  soon  as  the  men  were  informed 
cf  the  order,  a most  irregular  and  tumultuous  scene  com- 
menced. Not  being  buoyed  up  by  the  mutual  confidence 
nrhich  is  the  offspring  of  discipline,  and  which  sustains 
regular  soldiers  under  all  circumstances,  they  no  longer 
acted  in  concert. 

Each  man  selected  the  time,  manner,  and  route  of  hi* 
retreat  for  himself.  Here  a solitary  Kentuckian  would 
start  up  from  behind  a stump,  and  scud  away  through  the 
grass,  dodging  and  turning  to  avoid  the  balls  which  whis- 
tled around  him.  There  a dozen  men  would  run  from  a 
cabin,  and  scatter  in  every  direction,  each  anxious  to  save 
himself,  and  none  having  leisure  to  attend  to  their  neighbors. 
The  Indians,  astonished  at  seeing  men  rout  themselves  in 
this  manner,  sallied  out  of  their  redoubts  and  pursued  the 
stragglers,  as  sportsmen  would  cut  up  a scattered  flock  of 
wild  geese.  They  soon  united  themselves  to  Bowman’s 
party,  who  from  some  unaccountable  panic  of  their  com- 
mander or  fault  in  themselves,  had  stood  stock  still  near 
the  spot  where  Logan  had  left  them  the  night  before. 

All  was  confusion.  Some  cursed  their  colonel;  some 
reproached  other  officers:  one  shouted  one  thing;  one  bel- 


116 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


lowed  another,*  but  all  seemed  to  agree  that  they  ought  to 
make  the  best  of  their  way  home,  without  the  loss  of  a 
moment’s  time.  By  great  exertions  on  the  part  of  Logan, 
well  seconded  by  Harrod,  Bulger,  and  the  present  Major 
Bedinger,  of  the  Blue  Licks,  some  degree  of  order  was 
restored,  and  a tolerably  respectable  retreat  commenced. 
The  Indians,  however,  soon  surrounded  them  on  all  sides, 
and  kept  up  a hot  fire,  which  began  to  grow  fatal.  Colon- 
el Bowman  appeared  totally  demented,  and  sat  upon  his 
horse  like  a pillar  of  stone,  neither  giving  an  order,  nor 
taking  any  measures  to  repel  the  enemy.  The  sound  of 
the  rifle  shots,  had  however  completely  restored  the  men 
to  their  senses,  and  they  readily  formed  in  a large  hollow 
square,  took  trees  and  returned  the  fire  with  equal  viva- 
city. The  enemy  was  quickly  repelled,  and  the  troops  re- 
commenced their  march. 

But,  scarcely  had  they  advanced  half  a mile,  when  the 
Indians  re-appeared,  and  again  opened  a fire  upon  the 
front,  rear  and  both  flanks.  Again,  a square  was  formed 
and  the  enemy  repelled:  but  scarcely  had  the  harassed 
troops  recommenced  their  march,  when  the  same  galling 
fire  was  opened  upon  them  from  every  tree,  bush,  and 
stone  capable  of  concealing  an  Indian.  Matters  now 
began  to  look  serious.  The  enemy  were  evidently  endeav- 
oring to  detain  them,  until  fresh  Indians  could  come  up  in 
sufficient  force  to  compel  them  to  lay  down  their  arms. 
The  men  began  to  be  unsteady,  and  the  panic  was  rap- 
idly spreading  from  the  colonel  to  the  privates.  At  this 
crisis,  Logan,  Harrod,  Bedinger,  &c.,  selected  the  boldest, 
and  best  mounted  men,  and  dashing  into  the  bushes  on 
horseback,  scoured  the  woods  in  every  direction,  forcing 
the  Indians  from  their  coverts,  and  cutting  down  as  many 
as  they  could  overtake. 

This  decisive  step  completely  dispersed  the  enemy,  and 
the  weary  and  dispirited  troops  continued  their  retreat  un- 
molested. They  lost  nine  killed  and  a few  others  wounded. 
But  the  loss  of  reputation  on  the  part  of  the  colonel,  was 
incalculable,  for,  as  usual,  he  was  the  scapegoat  upon 
whose  head  the  disgrace  of  the  miscarriage  was  laid.  No 
good  reason  has  ever  hem  easigned  for  the  extraordinary 


BENJAMIN  LOGAN. 


117 

feilure  of  his  own  detachment:  and  the  subsequent  panic 
which  he  displayed  when  harassed  in  the  wood,  affords 
room  for  suspicion,  that  either  the  darkness  of  the  night, 
or  the  cry  of  an  owl,  (for  he  did  not  see  the  face  of  an  en- 
emy,) had  robbed  the  colonel  of  his  usual  courage. 

It  may  be  here  remarked,  that  the  propriety  of  combin- 
ed operations  with  irregular  troops,  is  at  least  doubtful. 
Different  corps,  moving  by  different  routes  upon  the  same 
point,  are  liable  to  miscarriage  from  so  many  causes,  that 
the  measure  is  scarcely  ever  attended  with  success,  unless 
when  the  troops  are  good,  the  officers  intelligent  and  un- 
animous, and  the  ground  perfectly  understood.  The  in- 
tervention of  a creek,  the  ignorance  of  a guide,  or  tho 
panic  of  an  officer,  as  in  the  case  of  Bowman,  may  destroy 
the  unity  of  the  operation,  and  expose  the  detachment 
which  has  reached  its  station  in  proper  time  to  be  cut  off. 

The  signal  failure  of  Washington  at  Germantown, 
may,  in  a great  measure,  be  attributed  to  the  complicated 
plan  of  attack,  as  the  several  divisions  arrived  at  different 
times,  attacked  without  concert,  and  were  beaten  in  de- 
tail. I can  scarcely  recollect  a single  instance,  save  the 
affair  of  Trenton,  in  which  raw  troops  have  succeeded  by 
combined  operations,  and  many  miscarriages  in  our  own 
annals,  may  be  attributed  to  that  circumstance.  Logan 
returned  to  Kentucky  with  a reputation  increased,  rather 
than  diminished,  by  the  failure  of  the  expedition.  His 
conduct  was  placed  in  glaring  contrast  to  that  of  his  un- 
fortunate commander,  and  the  praise  of  the  one  was  in 
exact  correspondence  to  the  censure  of  the  other. 

No  other  affair  of  consequence,  occurred,  until  the 
rash  and  disastrous  battle  of  the  Blue  Licks,  in  which  as 
we  have  seen,  Logan  was  unable  to  share.  He  seems  to 
have  remained  quietly  engaged  in  agricultural  pursuits, 
until  the  summer  of  1788,  when  he  conducted  an  expedi- 
tion against  the  north-western  tribes,  which,  as  usual, 
terminated  in  burning  their  villages,  and  cutting  up  their 
cornfields,  serving  to  irritate,  but  not  to  subdue  the  enemy. 
A single  incident  attending  this  expedition,  deserves  to  be 
commemorated.  Upon  approaching  a large  village  of  the 
Shawnees,  from  which  as  usual,  most  of  the  inhabitants 


118 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


had  fled,  an  old  chief  named  Moluntha,  came  out  to  meet 
them,  fantastically  dressed  in  an  old  cocked  hat,  set  jaun- 
tily upon  one  side  of  his  head,  and  a fine  shasvl  thrown 
over  his  shoulders.  He  carried  an  enormous  pipe  in  one 
hand,  and  a tobacco  pouch  in  the  other,  and  strutted  out 
with  the  air  of  an  old  French  beau  to  smoke  the  pipe  of 
peace  with  his  enemies,  whom  he  found  himself  unable  to 
meet  in  the  field. 

Nothing  could  be  more  striking,  than  the  fearless  confi- 
dence with  which  he  walked  through  the  foremost  ranki 
of  the  Kentuckians,  evidently  highly  pleased  with  his  own 
appearance,  and  enjoying  the  admiration  which  he  doubted 
not,  that  his  cocked  hat  and  splendid  shawl  inspired.  Many 
of  the  Kentuckians  were  highly  amused  at  the  mixture  of 
dandyism  and  gallantry  which  the  poor  old  man  exhibited, 
and  shook  hands  with  him  very  cordially.  Unfortunately, 
however,  he  at  length  approached  Major  McGary,  whose 
temper,  never  particularly  sweet,  was  as  much  inflamed  by 
the  sight  of  an  Indian,  as  that  of  a wild  bull  by  the  wav- 
ing of  a red  flag.  It  happened,  unfortunately  too,  that 
Moluntha  had  been  one  of  the  chiefs  who  commanded  at 
the  Blue  Licks,  a disaster  which  McGary  had  not  yet  foi* 
gotten. 

Instead  of  giving  his  hand  as  the  others  had  done, 
McGary  scowled  upon  the  old  man,  and  asked  him  if  « he 
recollected  the  Blue  Licks!”  Moluntha  smiled  and  mere- 
ly repeated  the  word  “ Blue  Licks !”  when  McGary  in 
itantly  drew  his  tomahawk* and  cleft  him  to  the  brain.  The 
old  man  received  the  blow  without  flinching  for  a second, 
and  fell  dead  at  the  feet  of  his  destroyer.  Great  excite- 
ment instantly  prevailed  in  the  army.  Some  called  it  a 
ruthless  murder;  and  others  swore  that  he  had  done  right; 
that  an  Indian  was  not  to  be  regarded  as  a human  being, 
but  ought  to  be  shot  down  as  a wolf  whenever  and  wher- 
ever he  appeared.  McGary  himself  raved  like  a mad- 
man at  the  reproach  of  his  countrymen,  and  declared,  with 
many  bitter  oaths,  that  he  would  not  only  kill  every  In- 
dian whom  he  met,  whether  in  peace  or  war,’ at  church  or 
market,  but  that  he  would  equally  as  readily  tomahawk  the 
man  who  blamed  him  for  the  act 


WILLIAM  CRAWFORD. 


119 


Nothing  else,  worthy  of  being  mentioned,  occurred  du- 
ring the  expedition,  and  Logan,  upon  his  return,  devoted 
himself  exclusively  to  the  civil  affairs  of  the  country,  which 
about  this  time  began  to  assume  an  important  aspect. 

The  reader  who  is  desirous  of  understanding  the  gra- 
dations by  which,  from  a simple  society  of  woodsmen, 
Kentucky  became  transformed  into  a boiling  vortex  of  po- 
litical fury,  intrigue  and  dissension,  will  do  well  to  consult 
Mr.  Marshall’s  history,  which,  although  possessing  some 
peculiarities  of  opinion,  and  occasional  eccentricities  of 
style,  will  be  found  to  contain  a strong,  clear,  and  saga- 
cious view  of  the  political  events  which  succeeded  the 
peace  of  1783 


CHAPTER  V. 

During  the  whole  of  the  Revolutionary  war,  the  Indian® 
had  been  extremely  troublesome  to  the  back  counties  of 
Pennsylvania  and  Virginia,  particularly  to  those  of  Wash- 
ington, Youghiogany,  and  Westmoreland.  In  the  early 
part  of  the  year  1782,  however,  these  irregular  excursion® 
became  so  galling,  that  an  expedition  was  concerted  a- 
gainst  the  Wyandott  village,  lying  upon  the  waters  of  the 
Sandusky.  Great  exertions  were  made  to  procure  volun- 
teers. Every  man  who  should  equip  himself  with  a hors® 
and  rifle,  was  to  be  exempted  from  two  tours  of  militia 
duty;  and  any  loss,  either  of  arms  or  horses,  was  to  be 
repaired  out  of  the  plunder  of  the  Indian  towns.  The 
volunteers  were  to  rendezvous  on  the  20th  of  May,  at  an 
old  Mingo  village,  on  the  western  shore  of  the  Ohio,  about 
forty  miles  above  fort  Pitt,  and  the  unfortunate  Colonel 
William  Crawford  was  unanimously  selected  as  the  lead- 
er of  the  expedition. 

On  the  appointed  day,  four  hundred  and  fifty  mounted 
volunteers  assembled  at  the  Mingo  village,  and  impatient- 
ly awaited  the  arrival  of  their  colonel.  Crawford  instant- 
ly accepted  the  appointment,  which  had  been  so  unani- 


120 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


mously  pressed  upon  him,  and  a few  days  before  the  day 
of  rendezvous,  passed  through  Pittsburgh,  on  his  way  to 
the  appointed  place.  He  there  prevailed  upon  Dr.  Knight 
to  accompany  the  detachment  as  surgeon,  and  having  pro- 
vided such  medical  stores  as  were  likely  to  be  useful  on 
the  expedition,  he  lost  no  time  in  putting  himself  at  the 
head  of  the  troops. 

On  Saturday,  the  25th  of  May,  the  little  army  com- 
menced its  march,  striking  at  once  into  a pathless  wilder- 
ness, and  directing  their  course  due  west.  On  the  fourth 
day,  they  halted  at  the  ruins  of  the  old  Moravian  town, 
about  sixty  miles  from  the  Ohio,  where  a few  of  the  vol- 
unteers gave  a sample  of  the  discipline  which  was  to  be 
expected  from  the  party,  by  abandoning  the  detachment 
and  returning  home.  The  main  body,  however,  still 
■eemed  eager  to  prosecute  the  expedition,  and  the  march 
was  continued  with  unabated  spirit.  On  the  morning  of 
the  30th,  Major  Brunton  and  Captain  Bean,  being  a few 
hundred  yards  in  advance  of  the  troops,  observed  two  In- 
dians, skulking  through  the  woods,  apparently  observing 
the  motions  of  the  detachment.  They  instantly  fired  up- 
on them,  but  without  success.  Secrecy  now  being  out  of 
the  question,  it  only  remained  to  press  forward  with  all 
practicable  despatch,  and  afford  the  enemy  as  little  time 
for  preparation  as  possible.-  As  the  wilderness  began  to 
deepen  around  them,  and  the  critical  moment  approached 
in  which  their  courage  would  be  tried,  it  became  evident 
that  the  ardor  of  the  men  was  considerably  cooled. 

On  the  eleventh  day  of  their  march,  they  reached  the 
-vpot  where  the  town  of  Sandusky  had  formerly  stood,  but 
from  which  the  Indians  had  lately  removed  to  a spot  about 
eighteen  miles  below.  Here  the  detachment  halted,  and 
here  the  insubordinate  spirit  of  the  army  first  displayed 
itself.  They  insisted  upon  returning  home,  alleging  the 
tired  condition  of  their  horses,  and  the  fact,  that  their  pro- 
visions were  likely  soon  to  be  exhausted.  The  officers, 
yielding  to  the  wishes  of  their  constituents , (for  the  troops 
had  elected  their  own  officers,)  determined,  in  council,  that 
they  would  continue  their  march  for  one  day  longer,  and 
if  no  Indians  appeared,  they  would  then  return  home 


WILLIAM  CRAWFORD. 


121 


What  other  result  &an  these  which  we  are  now  about  te 
record,  could  have  been  anticipated  from  such  officers  and 
such  men? 

Just  as  the  council  broke  up,  a single  light-horseman 
belonging  to  the  advanced  guard  rode  in  at  a gallop,  an- 
nouncing that  a large  body  of  Indians  were  formed  in  an 
open  wood,  a few  miles  in  advance,  and  seemed  determined 
to  arrest  the  farther  progress  of  the  invaders.  Instant 
preparations  were  made  for  battle.  The  troops,  notwith- 
standing their  previous  murmurs,  advanced  with  alacrity, 
and  soon  came  up  with  the  light  horsemen,  who  were 
slowly  retiring  within  view  of  the  enemy.  The  country 
was  generally  open,  and  well  adapted  to  the  operations 
of  cavalry.  Here  and  there  a thin  copse  of  woodland 
appeared,  generally  free  from  undergrowth,  and  giving  to 
each  party  a full  view  of  their  enemy’s  movements.  The 
Indians  had  partially  obtained  possession  of  one  of  these 
copses,  although  their  full  force  had  not  yet  come  up. 

The  importance  of  seizing  the  wood  was  instantly  seen, 
and  Crawford  hastily  ordered  his  men  to  dismount,  tie  their 
horses,  and  force  the  enemy  from  their  position  before 
their  reinforcements  could  arrive.  This  judicious  order 
was  promptly  and  effectually  obeyed.  Both  flanks  of  the 
Indian  position  was  immediately  turned,  and  a rapid  and 
threatening  movement  upon  their  front  quickly  compelled 
them  to  give  way.  Crawford  now  took  possession  of  the 
wood,  but  scarcely  had  he  done  so,  when  the  main  body 
of  the  enemy  hurried  up  to  the  assistance  of  their  van, 
and  outflanking  Crawford  in  turn,  opened  a heavy  and 
galling  fire  upon  his  men,  from  which  they  found  it  very 
difficult  to  obtain  proper  shelter. 

The  action  now  became  sharp  and  serious;  Crawford 
maintaining  his  ground,  and  the  enemy,  (who  were  hourly 
increasing  in  number,)  making  the  most  strenuous  efforts 
to  regain  the  wood.  From  four  in  the  evening  until  dusk, 
the  firing  was  very  heavy,  and  the  loss  considerable.  Du- 
ring the  whole  of  this  time,  scarcely  an  Indian  was  visi- 
ble, unless  for  a moment,  when  shifting  his  position. 
Their  number  could  only  be  ascertained,  from  the  many 
wreaths  of  smoke,  which  arose  from  every  T>ush,  tree,  or 


122 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


tuft  of  grass  within  view.  At  night  the  enemy  drew  off, 
and  Crawford’s  party  slep.t  upon  their  arms  upon  the  field 
of  battle. 

On  the  next  day  the  attack  was  renewed,  but  at  a more 
respectful  distance.  The  Indians  had  apparently  sustain- 
ed some  loss  on  the  close  firing  of  the  preceding  evening, 
and  seemed  now  determined  to  await  the  arrival  of  addi- 
tional reinforcements.  Occasional  shots  were  fired  through 
the  day,  on  both  sides,  but  without  much  injury  to 
either.  As  soon  as  it  was  dark,  the  field  officers  assem- 
bled in  council;  and,  as  the  numbers  of  the  enemy  were 
evidently  increasing  every  moment,  it  was  unanimously 
determined  to  retreat  by  night,  as  rapidly  as  was  consis- 
tent with  order,  and  the  preservation  of  the  wounded. 
The  resolution  was  quickly  announced  to  the  troops,  and 
the  necessary  dispositions  made  for  carrying  it  into  effect. 
The  outposts  were  silently  withdrawn  from  the  vicinity 
of  the  enemy,  and  as  fast  as  they  came  in,  the  troops 
were  formed  in  three  parallel  lines,  with  the  wounded  borne 
upon  biers,  in  the  center.  By  nine  o’clock  at  night, 
all  necessary  arrangements  had  been  made,  and  the 
retreat  began  in  good  order 

Unfortunately,  they  had  scarcely  moved  a hundred  pa 
ces,  when  the  report  of  several  rifles  were  heard  in  the 
rear,  in  the  direction  of  the  Indian  encampment.  The 
troops  soon  became  very  unsteady.  At  length,  a sol 
itary  voice,  in  the  front  rank,  called  out,  that  their  de- 
sign was  discovered,  and  that  the  Indians  would  soon  be 
upon  them.  Nothing  more  was  necessary.  The  cavalry 
were  instantly  broken;  and,  as  usual,  each  man  endeav 
ored  to  save  himself  as  he  best  could.  A prodigious 
uproar  ensued,  which  quickly  communicated  to  the  enemy, 
that  the  white  men  had  routed  themselves,  and  that  they 
had  nothing  to  do  but  pick  up  stragglers.  The  miser* 
able  wounded,  notwithstanding  the  piercing  cries  with 
which  they  supplicated  to  be  taken  with  them,  were  aban 
doned  to  the  mercy  of  the  enemy,  and  soon  put  out  of 
pain. 

Dr.  Knight,  the  surgeon  of  the  detachment,  was  in  the 
cear  when  the  flight  commenced,  but  seeing  the  necessity 


WILLIAM  CRAWFORD* 


123 

of  despatch,  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse  and  galloped  through 
the  wood  as  fast  as  the  darkness  of  the  night  would 
permit.  He  had  not  advanced  more  than  three  hundred 
yards,  when  he  heard  the  voice  of  Colonel  Crawford,  a 
short  distance  in  front,  calling  aloud  for  his  son  John 
Crawford,  his  son-in-law  Major  Harrison,  and  his  two 
nephews.  Major  Rose  and  William  Crawford.  Dr.  Knight 
replied  in  the  same  loud  tone,  that  he  believed  the  young 
men  were  in  front.  “Is  that  you,  Doctor?”  asked  Craw- 
ford, eagerly;  for  no  features  could  be  recognised  in  the 
darkness.  “Yes,  Colonel!  I am  the  hindmost  man  I be- 
lieve!” “No,  No!”  replied  Crawford,  anxiously,  “my  son 
is  in  the  rear  yet:  I have  not  been  able  to  hear  of  him  in 
front!  Do  not  leave  me,  Doctor,  my  horse  has  almost  giv 
en  out;  I cannot  keep  up  with  the  troops,  and  wish  a few 
of  my  best  friends  to  stay  with  me !” 

Knight  assured  him,  that  he  might  rely  upon  his  sup 
port  in  any  extremity,  and  drew  up  his  horse  by  his  side. 
Colonel  Crawford  still  remained  upon  the  same  spot,  cab- 
ling loudly  for  his  son,  until  the  last  straggler  had  passed. 
He  then  in  strong  language  reprobated  the  conduct  of  the 
militia,  in  breaking  their  ranks,  and  abandoning  the  woun* 
ded,  but  quickly  returned  to  the  subject  of  his  son,  and  ap- 
peared deeply  agitated  at  the  uncertainty  of  his  fate. 
Perceiving,  however,  that  further  delay  must  terminate  in 
death  or  captivity,  the  party  set  spurs  to  their  horses  and 
followed  the  route  of  the  troops.  Presently  an  old  man 
and  a lad  joined  them.  Crawford  eagerly  asked  if  they 
had  seen  his  son  or  nephews?  They  assured  him  that  they 
had  not,  upon  which  he  sighed  deeply,  but  made  no  reply. 

At  this  instant,  a heavy  fire  was  heard  at  the  distance 
of  a mile  in  front,  accompanied  by  yells,  screams,  and  all 
the  usual  attendants  of  battle.  Not  a doubt  was  enter- 
tained that  the  Indians  had  intercepted  the  retreat  of  the 
main  body,  and  were  now  engaged  with  them.  Having 
lost  all  confidence  in  his  men,  Crawford  did  not  choose  to 
unite  his  fortune  to  theirs,  and  changed  his  course,  to  the 
northward,  in  such  a manner  as  to  leave  the  combatants 
upon  the  right.  He  continued  in  this  direction  for  nearly 
an  hour,  until  he  supposed  himself  out  of  the  immediate* 


124  WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 

line  of  the  enemy’s  operations,  when  he  again  changed 
his  course  to  the  eastward,  moving  as  rapidly  as  possible, 
with  an  interval  of  twenty  paces  between  them,  and  stear 
dily  regulating  their  route  by  the  north  star.  The  boy 
who  accompanied  them  was  brisk  and  active,  but  the  old 
man  constantly  lagged  behind,  and  as  constantly  shouted 
aloud  for  them  to  wait  for  him.  They  often  remonstrated 
with  him  on  the  impropriety  of  making  so  much  noise,  at 
a time  when  all  their  lives  depended  upon  secrecy  and 
celerity,  and  he  repeatedly  promised  to  do  so  no  more. 

At  length,  upon  crossing  Sandusky  creek,  the  old  man 
found  himself  once  more  considerably  in  the  rear,  and 
once  more  shouted  aloud  for  them  to  wait,  until  he  could 
come  up.  Before  they  could  reply  a halloo  was  heard,  in 
the  rear  of  their  left,  and  apparently  not  more  than  ono 
hundred  paces  from  the  spot  where  the  old  man  stood. 
Supposing  it  to  be  the  cry  of  an  Indian,  they  remained 
still  and  silent  for  several  minutes,  looking  keenly  around 
them  in  the  expectation  of  beholding  an  enemy.  Every 
thing,  however,  continued  silent.  The  old  man  was  heard 
no  more,  and  whether  he  escaped,  or  was  killed,  could  nev- 
er be  ascertained.  The  party  continued  their  flight  until 
daybreak,  when  Colonel  Crawford’s  horse  and  that  of  the 
boy,  sunk  under  their  riders,  and  were  abandoned. 

Continuing  their  journey  on  foot,  they  quickly  fell  in 
with  Captain  Biggs,  an  expert  woodsman  and  gallant  offi- 
cer, who,  in  the  universal  scattering,  had  generously  brought 
off  a wounded  officer,  Lieutenant  Ashley,  upon  his  own 
horse,  and  was  now  composedly  walking  by  his  side,  with 
a rifle  in  his  hand  and  a knapsack  upon  his  shoulders.  This 
casual  meeting  was  gratifying  to  both  parties,  and  they 
continued  their  journey  with  renewed  spirits.  At  three 
o’clock  in  the  afternoon  a heavy  rain  fell,  and  compelled 
them  to  encamp.  A temporary  shelter  was  quickly  formed 
by  barking  several  trees,  after  the  manner  of  the  Indians, 
and  spreading  the  bark  over  poles  so  as  to  form  a roof.  A 
fire  was  then  kindled,  and  the  rain  continued  to  pour  dowm 
in  torrents.  They  remained  here  through  the  night, 
without  any  accident. 

Continuing  their  route  on  the  following  morning,  at  th* 


WItXIAM  CRAWFORD. 


distance  of  three  miles  from  the  camp,  they  found  a deer, 
which  had  recently  been  killed  and  skinned.  The  meat  was 
neatly  sliced  and  bundled  up  in  the  skin  — and  a toma- 
hawk lay  near — giving  room  for  suspicion  that  Indians 
' were  in  the  neighborhood.  As  the  whole  party  had  fast- 
ed for  thirty  six  hours,  this  was  a very  acceptable  treat, 
and  lifting  the  skin,  with  the  meat  enclosed  from  the 
ground,  they  carried  it  with  them  until  they  had  leisure  to 
cook  it.  Having  advanced  a mile  further,  they  observed 
a smoke  in  the  woods,  before  them.  The  party  instantly 
| halted,  w'hile  Colonel  Crawford  and  Dr.  Knight  advanced 
to  recon  noiter. 

Cautiously  approaching  the  fire,  they  found  it  burning 
brightly,  but  abandoned,  from  which  they  inferred 
I that  a party  had  encamped  there  the  preceding  night, 
and, had  retired  a few  minutes  before  their  approach. 
Having  carefully  examined  the  bushes  around,  and  die- 
i covered  no  Indian  sign,  they  directed  their  friends  in  the 
rear  to  come  up,  and  quickly  set  about  preparing  break  - 
fast. In  a few  minutes  they  observed  a white  man,  skulk 
ing  in,  the  rear,  examining  the  trail  and  apparently  very 
shy  of  approaching  them.  Calling  out  to  him  in  a friend-. 
Iy  tone,  they  invited  him  to  approach  without  fear,  assuring 
him  that  they  were  countrymen  and  friends.  The  man 
instantly  complied,,  and  informed  them  that  he  had  killed 
the  deer  which  they  were  cooking,  but  hearing  them  ap- 
proach, he  had  taken  them  for  enemies,  and  had  fled  into 
the  bushes  for  concealment. 

Highly  pleased  at  this  further  accession  to  their  strength, 
the  party  breakfasted  heartily  upon  the  deer,  and  confirmed 
their  march.  By  noon,  they  had  reached  the  path  by 
which  the  army  had  marched  a few,  days  before,  in  their 
advance  upon  the  Indian  towns,  and  some  discussion  took 
place  as  to  the  propriety  of  taking  that  road  homeward. 
Biggs  and  the  doctor  strenuously  insisted  upon  continuing 
their  course  through  the  woods,  and  avoiding, all  paths,  but 
Crawford  overruled  them,  assuring  them  that  the  Indians 
would  not  urge  the  pursuit  beyond  the  plains,,  which  were 
already  far  behind.  Unfortunately,  the  colonel  prevailed; 
and  abandoning  their  due  eastern  course,  the  party  pursued 


126 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


the  beaten  path.  Crawford  and  Knight  moved  one  hurt- 
dred  and  fifty  yards  in  front,  Biggs  and  his  wounded  friend 
Ashley  were  in  the  center,  both  on  horseback,  the  doctor 
having  lent  Biggs  his  horse,  and  the  two  men  on  foot 
brought  up  the  rear. 

They  soon  had  reason  to  repent  their  temerity.  Scarce- 
ly had  they  advanced  a mile,  when  several  Indians  sprung 
up  within  twenty  yards  of  Knight  and  Crawford,  present- 
ed their  guns  and  in  good  English  ordered  them  to  stop. 
Knight  instantly  sprung  behind  a large  black  oak,  cocked 
his  gun  and  began  to  take  aim  at  the  foremost.  Crawford, 
however,  did  not  attempt  to  conceal  himself — but  calling 
hastily  to  Knight,  ordered  him  twice  not  to  fire.  Instantly 
the  Indian,  at  whom  Knight  had  taken  aim,  ran  up  to  the 
colonel  with  every  demonstration  of  friendship,  shook  his 
hand  cordially,  and  asked  him  how  he  did.  Kuight  still 
maintaining  a hostile  attitude  behind  the  tree,  Crawford 
called  to  him  again,  and  ordered  him  to  put  down  his  gun, 
which  the  doctor  very  reluctantly  obeyed. 

Biggs  and  Ashley,  seeing  the  condition  of  their  friends, 
halted,  while  the  two  men  in  the  rear  very  prudently  took 
to  their  heels  and  escaped.  One  of  the  Indians  then  told 
Crawford  to  order  Biggs  to  come  up  and  surrender  or  they 
would  kill  him.  The  colonel  complied,  but  Biggs,  feeling 
no  inclination  to  obey  his  commander  in  the  present  in- 
stance, very  coolly  cocked  his  rifle,  took  deliberate  aim  at 
one  of  the  Indians,  and  fired,  although  without  effect.  H® 
and  Ashley  then  put  spurs  to  their  horses  and  for  the  time 
escaped.  The  two  prisoners  were  then  taken  to  the  In- 
dAi  camp,  which  stood  within  a few  miles  of  the  place 
where  they  were  taken;  and  on  the  next  evening,  five 
Delawares  came  in  with  the  scalps  and  horses  of  Biggs 
and  Ashley,  who  it  appeared,  had  returned  to  the  road,  and 
were  intercepted  a few  miles  further  on. 

On  the  morning,  which  was  the  tenth  of  June,  Craw- 
ford and  Knight,  together  with  nine  more  prisoners,  were 
conducted  by  their  captors,  seventeen  in  number,  to  the 
old  town  of  Sandusky,  about  thirty-three  miles  distant.  The 
main  body  halted  at  night,  within  eight  miles  of  the  vil- 
lage, but  as  Colonel  Crawford  expressed  great  anxiety  to. 


WILLIAM  CRAWFORD. 


127 

speak  with  Simon  Girty,  who  was  then  at  Sandusky,  he 
was  permitted  to  go  on  that  evening,  under  the  care  of 
two  Indians.  On  Tuesday  morning,  the  11th  of  June, 
Colonel  Crawford  was  brought  back  from  Sandusky  on 
purpose  to  march  into  town  with  the  other  prisoners. 
Knight  eagerly  accosted  him,  and  asked  if  he  had  seen 
Girty  ? 

The  colonel  replied  in  the  affirmative;  and  added,  that 
Girty  had  promised  to  use  his  utmost  influence  for  his 
(the  colonel’s)  safety,  but  was  fearful  of  the  consequences, 
as  the  Indians  generally,  and  particularly  Captain  Pipe, 
one  of  the  Delaware  chiefs,  were  much  incensed  against 
the  prisoners,  and  were  endeavoring  to  have  them  all 
burned.  The  colonel  added,  that  he  had  heard  of  his  son- 
in-law,  Colonel  Harrison,  and  his  nephew,  William  Craw- 
ford, both  of  whom  had  been  taken  by  the  Shawnees,  and 
admitted  to  mercy.  Shortly  after  this  communication, 
their  capital  enemy,  Captain  Pipe  appeared.  His  appear- 
ance was  by  no  means  unprepossessing,  and  he  exhibited 
none  of  the  ferocity,  which  Knight,  from  Girty’s  account, 
had  been  led  to  expect. 

On  the  contrary,  his  manners  were  bland  and  his  lan- 
guage flattering.  But  one  ominous  circumstance  attend- 
ed his  visit.  With  his  own  hands,  he  painted  every  pris- 
oner black!  While  in  the  act  of  painting  the  doctor,  he 
was  as  polite  as  a French  valet,,  assuring  him  that  he 
should  soon  go  to  the  Shavvnee  town  and  see  his  friends; 
and  while  painting  the  colonel,  he  told  him  that  his  head 
should  be  snaved,  i.  e.,  he  should  be  adopted,  as  soon  as 
he  arrived  at  the  Wyandott  town.  As  soon  as  ihe  pris- 
oners were  pointed,  they  were  conducted  towards  the 
town,  Captain  Pipe  walking  bv  the  side  of  Crawford,  and 
treating  him  with  the  utmost  kindness,  while  the  other 
prisoners,  with  the  exception  of  Dr.  Knight,  were  pushed 
on  ahead  of  him. 

As  they  advanced,  they  were  shocked  at  observing  the 
bodies  of  four  of  their  friends,,  who  had  just  left  them,, 
lying  near  the  path,  tomahawked  and  scalped,  with  an  in- 
terval of  nearly  a mile  between  each.  They  had  evi- 
dently perished  in  running  the  gauntlet.  This  spectacle- 


128 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


was  regarded  as  a sad  presage  of  their  own  fate.  In  w 
short  time  they  overtook  the  five  prisoners  who  remained 
alive.  They  were  seated  on  the  ground,  and  appeared 
much  dejected.  Nearly  seventy  squaws  and  Indian  boys 
surrounded  them,  menacing  them  with  knives  and  toma- 
hawks,  and  exhausting  upon  them  every  abusive  epithet 
which  their  language  afforded.  Crawford  and  Knight  were 
compelled  tositdown  apart  from  the  rest,  and  immediately  af- 
terwards, the  doctor  was  given  to  a Shawnee  warrior,  to  be 
conducted  to  their  town,  while  the  colonel  remained  sta- 
tionary. 

The  boys  and  squaws  then  fell  upon  the  other  prisoners, 
and  tomahawked  them  in  a moment.  Among  them  was 
Captain  McKinley,  who  had  served  with  reputation  through- 
out the  revolutionary  war  until  the  capture  of  Cornwallis. 
An  old  withered  hag  approached  him,  brandishing  a long 
knife,  and  seizing  him  by  the  hair,  instantly  cut  off  his  head 
and  kicked  it  near  the  spot  where  Crawford  sat  in  mo- 
mentary expectation  of  a similar  fate.  Another  destiny, 
however,  was  reserved  for  him.  After  having  sufficiently 
exhausted  their  rage  upon  the  lifeless  bodies  of  the  five 
prisoners,  the  whole  party  started  uprand  driving  Craw- 
ford before  them,  marched  towards  the  village. 

Presently,  Girty  appeared  on  horseback,  coming  fronr 
Sandusky.  He  stopped  for  a few  moments,  and  spoke 
Crawford,  then  passing  to  the  rear  of  the  party,  addressed 
Knight:  “Is  this  the  doctor??’  inquired  he,  with  an  in- 
sulting smile.  “-Yes!?  Mr.  Girty,  I am  glad  to  see  you!” 
replied  poor  Knight,  advancing  towards  him,  and  anx- 
iously extending  his  hand.*  But  Girty  cursed  him  in  a 
savage  tone,  ordered  him  to  be  gone,  and  not  to  suppose 

that  he  would  give  his  hand  to  such  a rascal.  Upon 

this,  the  Shawnee  warrior  who  had  him  in  custody,  drag 
ged  him  along  by  a rope.  Girty  followed  on  horseback, 
and  informed  him  that  he  was  to  go  to  Chillicothe.  Pres- 
ently they  came  to  a spot  where  there  was  a large  fire, 
around  which  about  thirty  warriors,  and  more  than  double 
that  number  of  boys  and  squaws  were  collected. 

As  soon  as  the  colonel  arrived,  they  surrounded  him, 
stripped  him  naked,  and  compelled  him  to  sit  on  the  gro«n«l 


WILLIAM  CRAWFORD. 


129 


near  the  fire.  They  then  fell  upon  him,  and  beat  him 
-severely  with  sticks  and  their  fists.  In  a few  minutes  a 
large  stake  was  fixed  in  the  ground,  and  piles  of  hickory 
poles,  rather  thicker  than  a man’s  thumb,  and  about  twelve 
feet  in  length,  were  spread  around  it.  Colonel  Craw- 
ford’s hands  were  then  tied  behind  his  back;  a strong 
rope  was  produced,  one  end  of  which  was  fastened  to  the 
ligature  between  his  wrists,  and  the  other  tied  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  stake.  The  rope  was  long  enough  to  permit 
him  to  walk  around  the  stake  several  times  and  then  return. 
Fire  was  then  applied  to  the  hickory  poles,  which  . lay  in 
piles  at  the  distance  of  six  or  seven  yaads  from  the  stake. 

The  colonel,  observing  these  terrible  preparations, 
called  to  Girty,  who  sat  on  horseback,  at  the  distance  of  a 
few  yards  from  the  fire,  and  asked  if  the  Indians  were 
going  to  burn  him.  Girty  very  coolly  replied  in  the 
affirmative.  The  colonel  heard  tha  intelligence  with  firm- 
ness, merely  observing,  that  he  would  bear  it  with  forti- 
tude. When  the  hickory  poles  had  been  burnt  asunder  in 
the  middle,  Captain  Pipe  arose  and  addressed  the  crowd, 
in  a tone  of  great  energy,  and  with  animated  gestures, 
pointing  frequently  to  the  colonel,  who  regarded  him  with 
an  appearance  of  unruffled  composure.  As  soon  as  he 
had  ended,  a loud  whoop  burst  from  the  assembled  throng, 
and  they  all  rushed  at  once  upon  the  unfortunate  Craw- 
ford. For  several  seconds,  the  crowd  was  so  great  around 
him,  that  Knight  could  not  see  what  they  were  doing;  but 
in  a short  time,  they  had  dispersed  sufficiently  to  . give 
him  a view  of  the  colonel. 

His  ears  had  been  cut  off,  and  the  blood  was  streaming 
down  each  side  of  his  face.  A terrible  scene  of  torture 
, now  commenced.  The  warriors  shot  charges  of  powder 
into  his  naked  body,  commencing  with  the  calves  of  his 
legs,  and  continuing  to  his  neck.  The  boys  snatched  the 
burning  hickory  poles  and  applied  them  to  his  flesh.  As 
fast  as  he  ran  around  the  stake,  to  avoid  one  party  of  tor 
mentors,  he  was  promptly  met  at  every  turn  by  others, 
with  burning  poles,  red  hot  irons,  and  rifles  loaded  with 
powder  only;  so  that  in  a few  minutes  nearly  one  hundred 
charges  of  powder  had  been  shot  into  his  body,  which  had 


130 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


become  black  and  blistered  in  a dreadful  manner.  The 
squaws  would  take  up  a quantity  of  coals  and  hot  ashes, 
and  throw  them  upon  his  body,  so  that  in  a few  minutes  he 
had  nothing  but  fire  to  walk  upon. 

In  the  extremity  of  his  agony,  the  unhappy  colonel 
called  aloud  upon  Girty,  in  tones  which  rang  through 
Knight’s  brain  with  maddening  effect:  “ Girty!  Girty  1! 
shoot  me  through  the  heart!l  Quick!  quick!!  Do  not 
refuse  me!!”  u Don’t  you  see  I have  no  gun,  colonel V* 
replied  the  monster,  bursting  into  a loud  laugh,  and  then 
turning  to  an  Indian  beside  him,  he  uttered  some  brutal 
jests  upon  the  naked  and  miserable  appearance  of  the 
prisoner.  While  this  awful  scene  wTas  being  acted,  Girty 
rode  up  to  the  spot  where  Dr.  Knight  stood,  and  told  him 
that  he  now  had  a foretaste  of  what  was  in  reserve  for 
him  at  the  Shawnee  towns.  He  swore  that  he  need  not 
expect  to  escape  death,  but  should  suffer  it  in  all  the 
extremity  of  torture! 

Knight,  whose  mind  was  deeply  agitated  at  the  sight 
of  the  fearful  scene  before  him,  took  no  notice  of  Girty, 
but  preserved  an  impenetrable  silence.  Girty,  after 
coldly  contemplating  the  colonePs  sufferings  for  a few 
moments,  turned  again  to  Knight,  and  indulged  in  a bitte 
invective  against  a certain  Colonel  Gibson,  from  whom 
he  said,  he  had  received  deep  injury;  and  dwelt  upon  the 
delight  with  which  he  would  see  him  undergo  such  tor- 
tures as  those  which  Crawford  was  then  suffering.  He 
observed,  in  a taunting  tone,  that  most  of  the  prisoners 
had  said,  that  the  wrhite  people  would  not  injure  him,  if 
the  chance  of  war  was  to  throw  him  into  their  power;  but 
that  for  his  own  part,  he  should  be  loath  to  try  the  experi- 
ment. “I  think,  (added  he  wTith  a laugh,)  that  they  would 
roast  me  alive,  with  more  pleasure  than  those  red  fellows 
are  now  broiling  the  colonel ! What  is  your  opinion,  doc- 
tor? Do  you  think  they  would  be  glad  to  see  me?”  Still 
Knight  made  no  answer,  and  in  a few  minutes  Girty 
rejoined  the  Indians. 

The  terrible  scene  had  now  lasted  more  than  two  hours, 
and  Crawford  had  become  much  exhausted.  He  walked 
slowly  around  the  stake,  spoke  in  a low  tone,  and  ear- 


WifecfAM  CRAWFORD. 


131 

nestly  besought  God  to  look  with  compassion  upon  him, 
and  pardon  his  sins.  His  nerves  had  lost  much  of  their 
sensibility,  and  he  no  longer  shrunk  from  the  firebrands 
with  which  they  incessantly  touched  him.  At  length  he 
sunk  in  a fainting  fit  upon  his  face,  and  lay  motionless. 
Instantly  an  Indian  sprung  upon  his  back,  knelt  lightly 
upon  one  knee,  made  a circular  incision  with  his  knife 
upon  the  crown  of  his  head,  and  clapping  the  knife  be- 
tween his  teeth,  tore  the  scalp  off  with  both  hands. 
Scarcely  had  this  been  done,  when  a withered  hag  ap- 
proached with  a board  full  of  burning  embers,  and  poured 
them  upon  the  crown  of  his  head,  now  laid  bare  to  the 
bone.  The  colonel  groaned  deeply,  arose,  and  again 
walked  slowly  around  the  stake!  But  why  continue  a 
description  so  horrible?  Nature  at  length  could  endure 
no  more,  and  at  a late  hour  in  the  night,  he  was  released 
by  death  from  the  hands  of  his  tormentors. 

At  sun  set,  Dr.  Knight  was  removed  from  the  ground, 
and  taken  to  the  house  of  Captain  Pipe,  where,  after 
having  been  securely  bound,  he  was  permitted  to  sleep 
unmolested.  On  the  next  morning,  the  Indian  fellow  to 
whose  care  he  had  been  committed,  unbound  him,  again 
painted  him  black,  and  told  him  he  must  instantly  march 
off  for  the  Shawnee  village.  The  doctor  was  a small, 
weak  man,  and  had  sunk  much  under  the  hardship  to 
which  he  had  been  exposed;  and  this,  probably,  was  the 
cause  of  his  having  been  committed  unbound  to  the  guar 
dianship  of  a single  Indian.  They  quickly  left  Sandusky, 
and  in  a few  minutes  passed  by  the  spot  where  Crawford 
had  been  tortured.  His  flesh  had  been  entirely  con- 
sumed, and  his  bones,  half  burnt  and  blackened  by  the 
Are,  lay  scattered  around  the  stake.  The  Indian  fellow 
who  guarded  him,  uttered  the  scalp  halloo,  as  he  passed 
the  spot,  and  insultingly  told  Knight,  that  “these  were 
the  bones  of  his  Big  Captain!”  Knight  was  on  foot,  the 
Indian  mounted  on  a pony  and  well  armed,  yet  the  doctor 
determined  to  effect  his  escape,  or  compel  his  enemy,  to 
shoot  him  dead  upon  the  spot. 

The  awful  torture  which  Crawford  had  undergone,  had 
left  a deep  impression  upon  his  mind.  The  savage  inti  - 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


-m 

mation  of  Girty  was  not  forgotten.;  and  he  regarded 
death,  by  shooting,  as  a luxury  compared  with  the  pro- 
tracted agony  of  the  stake.  Anxious,  however,  to  lull 
the*  suspicious  temper  of  the  Indian,  who  appeared  to  be 
extremely  vigilant,  he  spoke  to  him  in  a cheerful,  confi« 
dent  Hone,  and  pretended  to  be  entirely  ignorant  of  the 
fate  which  awaited  him  at  the  Shawnee  town.  He  foun*d 
the  fellow  very  sociable,  and  apparently  as  simple  as  he 
could  wish.  Upon  his  asking  if  they  were  not  to  live 
together  in  the  same  cabin,  like  brothers,  as  soon  as  they 
arrived  at  the  end  of  their  journey,  the  Indian  seemed 
pleased,  and  replied,  “yes.”  He  then  asked  the  doctor* 
if  he  could  make  a wigwam  ? The  doctor  boldly  asserted, 
that  he  was  a capital  workman  in  wood,  and  could  build  a 
wigwam,  to  whifih  teeir  most  spacious  council  houses  were 
mere  hovels.  This  assertion  evidently  elevated  him  in 
the  Indian’s  esteem,  and  they  continued  to  chat  in  a very 
friendly  manner,  each  probably  thinking  that  he  had  made 
a dupe  of  the  other. 

After  travelling  about  twenty-five  miles,  they  encamped 
for  the  night,  when  Knight  permitted  himself  to  be  bound. 
The  Indian  then  informed  him,  that  they  would  reach  the 
Shawnee  village  about  the  middle  of  the  next  day,  and  seem- 
ed to  compose  himself  to  rest.  Knight  frequently  attempt 
ed  to  untie  himself,  but  was  as  often  frustrated  by  the 
incessant  vigilance  of  the  Indian,  whose  dark  eyes  were 
rolling  around  him  throughout  the  whole  night.  At  day 
light,  the  Indian  arose  and  unbound  his  prisoner,  who  in- 
stantly determined  to  attempt  an  escape  without  further 
delay.  His  conductor  did  not  immediately  leave  the  spot, 
but  began  to  rekindle  their  fire  which  had  burned  low,  and 
employed  himself  diligently  in  giving  battle  to  the  myriads 
of  gnats,  that  swarmed  around  him,  and  fastened  upon 
his  naked  body  with  high  relish.  Knight  seeing  him  rub 
his  back  with  great  energy,  muttering  petulantly  in  the 
Indian  tongue,  asked  if  he  should  make  a smoke  behind 
hirft,  in  order  to  drive  the  gnats  away. 

The  Indian  teld  him  to  do  so,  and  Knight  arising  from  his 
seat,  took  the  end  of  a dogwood  fork  about  eighteen  inches 
length,  and  putting  a coal  of  fire  between-  it  and  anoth- 


WILLIAM  CRAWFORD. 


133 


*r  stick,  went  'behind  the  Indian  as  if  to  kindle  a fire. 
Gently  laying  down  the  coal,  he  paused  a moment  to  col- 
lect his  strength,  and  then  struck  the  Indian  a furious  blow 
upon  the  back  of  the  head,  with  the  dogwood  stick.  The 
fellow  stumbled  forward,  and  fell  with  his  hands  in  the 
fire,  but  instantly  rising  again,  ran  off  with  great  rapid- 
ity, howling  most  dismally.  Knight  instantly  seized  the 
rifle  which  his  enemy  had  abandoned  and  pursued  him, 
intending  to  shoot  him  dead  on  the  spot,  and  thus  pre- 
vent pursuit;  but  in  drawing  back  the  cock  of  the  gun 
too  violently,  he  injured  it  so&nuch  that  it  would  not  go 
off;  and  the  Indian  frightened  out  of  his  wits,  and  leaping 
and  dodging  with  the  activity  of  a wild  cat,  at  length 
effected  his  escape. 

On  the  same  day  about  noon,  as  Knight  afterwards 
learned  from  a prisoner  who  effected  his  escape,  the  Indi- 
an arrived  at  the  Shawnee  village,  with  his  head  dreadful- 
ly cut  and  his  legs  torn  by  the  briers.  He  proved  to  be 
a happy  mixture  of  the  braggadocio  and  coward,  and  trea- 
ted his  fellows  with  a magnificent  description  of  his  con 
test  with  Knight,  whom  he  represented  as  a giant  in  stature, 
(five  feet  seven  inches!)  and  a buffalo  in  strength  and 
fierceness.  He  said  that  Knight  prevailed  upon  him  to 
untie  him,  and  that  while  they  were  conversing  like  bro- 
thers, and  while  he  himself  was  suspecting  no  harm,  his 
prisoner  suddenly  seized  a dogwood  sapling,  and  belabored 
him,  now  on  this  side  of  his  head,  now  on  the  other,  (here 
his  gestures  wrere  very  lively,)  until  he  was  scarcely  able 
to  stand!  That,  nevertheless,  he  made  a manful  resistance, 
and  stabbed  his  gigantic  antagonist  twice,  once  in  the 
back,  and  once  in  the  belly,  but  seeing  that  his  knife 
made  no  impression  upon  the  strength  of  the  prisoner,  he 
was  at  length  compelled  to  leave  him,  satisfied  that  the 
wounds  which  he  had  inflicted  must  at  length  prove  mor- 
tal. The  Indians  were  much  diverted  at  his  account  of 
the  affair,  and  laughed  loud  and  long,  evidently  not  believ^ 
ing  a syllable  of  the  tale  — at  least  so  far  as  his  own 
prowess  was  concerned. 

In  the  mean  time,  Knight  finding  it  useless  to  pursuo 
(the  Indian,  to  w7  horn  terror  had  lent  wings,  hastily  return- 


134 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


ed  to  the  fire,  and  taking  the  Indian’s  blanket,  moccasins, 
bullet  bag  and  powder  horn,  lost  no  time  in  moving  ofl^ 
directing  his  course  towards  the  north-east.  About  half 
an  hour  by  sun  he  came  to  the  plains  already  mentioned, 
which  were  about  sixteen  miles  wide.  Not  choosing  to 
cross  them  by  daylight,  he  lay  down  in  the  high  grass 
until  dark,  then  guided  by  the  north  star,  he  crossed  them 
rapidly,  and  before  daylight  had  reached  the  woods  on  the 
other  side.  Without  halting  for  a moment,  he  continued 
his  march  until  late  in  the  afternoon,  crossing  nearly  at 
right  angles  the  path  by  which  the  troops  had  advanced,  and 
moving  steadily  to  the  northward,  with  the  hope  of  avoid- 
ing the  enemy  who  might  still  be  lingering  upon  the  rear 
of  the  troops. 

In  the  evening  he  felt  very  faint  and  hungry,’  having 
tasted  nothing  for  three  days,  and  very  little  since  his 
captivity.  Wild  gooseberries  grew  very  abundantly  in 
the  woods,  but  being  still  green,  they  required  mastication, 
which  he  was  unable  to  perform,  his  jaws  having  been 
much  injured  by  a blowr  from  the  back  of  a tomahawk 
There  was  a weed,  however,  which  grew  in  the  woods 
the  juice  of  which  was  grateful  to  the  palate,  and  nour- 
ishing  to  the  body.  - Of  this  he  sucked  plentifully,  and 
finding  himself  much  refreshed,  was  enabled  to  continue  j 
iiis  journey.  Supposing  that  he  had  now  advanced  suffi- 
ciently to  the  northwTard  to  baffle  his  pursuers,  he  changed 
his  course  and  steered  due  east. 

Wishing,  if  possible,  to  procure  some  animal  food,  he 
often  attempted  to  rectify  the  lock  of  his  gun,  supposing 
that  it  was  only  wood-bound,  but  having  no  knife,  he  was 
unable  to  unscrew  it,  and  was  at  length  reluctantly  com- 
pelled to  throw  it  away  as  a useless  burden.  His  jaw 
rapidly  recovered,  and  he  was  enabled  to  chew  green 
gooseberries,  upon  which,  together  with  two  young  un- 
fledged black  birds,  and  one  land  terrapin,  (both  devoured 
raw,)  he  managed  to  subsist  for  twenty-one  days.  He 
gwam  the  Muskingum  a few  miles  below  fort  Lawrence, 
and  crossing  all  paths,  directed  his  steps  to  the  Ohio 
river.  He  struck  it  at  a few  miles  below  fort  McIntosh 


JOHN  SLOVER.  1 35 

on  the  evening  of  the  twenty-first  day,  and  on  the  morning 
of  the  twenty-second  reached  the  fort  in  safety. 

Such  was  the  lamentable  expedition  of  Colonel  Craw- 
ford, rashly  undertaken,  injudiciously  prosecuted,  and  ter- 
minating with  almost  unprecedented  calamity.  The 
insubordinate  spirit  of  the  men,  together  with  the  inade- 
quacy of  the  force,  were  the  great  causes  of  the  failure. 
The  first  was  incident  to  the  nature  of  the  force;  but  the 
second  might  have  been  remedied  by  a little  consideration. 
Repeated  disasters,  however,  were  necessary  to  convince 
the  Americans  of  the  necessity  of  employing  a sufficient 
force;  and  it  was  not  until  they  had  suffered  by  the  expe- 
rience of  ten  more  years,  that  this  wras  at  length  done. 
The  defeat  of  Braddock  had  teen  bloody,  but  not  disgrace- 
ful. Officers  and  soldiers  died  in  tattle,  and  with  arms  in 
their  hands.  Not  a man  offered  to  leave  the  ground  until 
a retreat  was  ordered.  Crawford,  on  the  contrary,  per- 
ished miserably  at  the  stake,  as  did  most  of  his  men. 
They  were  taken  in  detail,  skulking  through  the  woods, 
to  avoid  an  enemy,  w horn  they  might  have  vanquished  by 
union,  steadiness,  and  courage.  It  stands  upon  record  as 
one  of  the  most  calamitous  and  disgraceful  expeditions 
wrhich  has  ever  stained  the  American  arms. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

During  the  old  French  war,  John  Slover,  a native  of 
Virginia,  was  taken  by  a party  of  Miami  Indians,  on  the 
banks  of  White  river,  and  immediately  conducted  to  the 
Indian  town  of  Sandusky.  Here  he  resided  from  his 
eighth  to  his  twentieth  year.  At  the  treaty  of  Pittsburgh, 
in  the  fall  of  1773,  he  came  in  with  the  Shawnee  nation, 
and  accidentally  meeting  with  some  of  his  relations,  ba 
was  recognised  and  earnestly  exhorted  to  relinquish  his 
connection  with  the  Indians,  and  return  to  his  friends.  Ho 
yielded  with  some  reluctance,  having  become  strongly 
attached  to  a savage  life;  and  having  probably  but  littla 


136 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


relish  for  labor  on  a farm,  after  the  easy  life  which  he  had 
led  in  Ohio,  he  enlisted  in  the  continental  army,  and  serv- 
ed two  campaigns  with  credit,  as  a sharp  shooter.  Hav- 
ing been  properly  discharged,  he  settled  in  Westmoreland 
county,  and  when  the  unfortunate  expedition  of  Craw'ford 
was  set  on  foot,  was  strongly  urged  to  attend  in  the  capa- 
city of  a guide. 

Conquering  the  distaste  which  he-  naturally  felt,  at  the 
idea  of  conducting  a hostile  army  against  his  former  friends, 
he  yielded  to  the  persuasion  of  his  neighbors,  and  shared 
in  all  the  dangers  of  the  army.  At  the  moment  when  the 
rout  took  place,  Slover  was  in  the  immediate  neighborhood 
of  the  enemy,  attending  to  a number  of  horses  that  were 
grazing  on  the  plain.  But  the  uproar  in  front,  occasioned 
by  the  tumultuous  flight  of  more  than  four  hundred  men, 
soon  warned  him  of  his  danger.  He  hastily  mounted  the 
best  horse  within  reach,  and  put  him  to  his  utmost  speed 
He  soon  overtook  the  main  body,  and  was  among  the  fore* 
most  when  the  Indians  attempted  to  intercept  them.  A 
deep  bog  crossed  the  line  of  retreat,  and  occasioned  im- 
mense confusion. 

Those  who  first  reached  it,  plunged  in  without  hesila 
lion,  but  after  struggling  for  a few  minutes,  their  horses 
stuck  fast,,  and  were  necessarily  abandoned.  The  dark- 
ness of  the  night,  and  the  hurry  of  the  retreat,  prevented 
the  rear  from  profiting  by  the  misfortune  of  the  van.  Horse- 
man after  horseman  plunged  madly  into  the  swamp,  and 
in  a few  minutes,  a scene  which  baffles  all  attempt  at  de- 
scription took  place.  Not  one  tenth  part  of  the  horses 
were  able  to  struggle  through.  Their  riders  dismounted 
and  endeavored,  on  foot,  to  reach  the  opposite  side.  The 
Indians  pressed  upon  them,  pouring  an  incessant  fire*  upon 
the  mass  of  fugitives,  some  of  whom  were  completely 
mired,  and  sunk  gradually  to  the  chin,  in  which  condition 
they  remained  until  the  following  morning;  others,  with 
great  difficulty,  effected  a passage,  and  continued  theii 
flight  on  foot. 

Slover,  having  struggled  for  several  minutes  to  disen- 
gage his  horse,  was  at  length  compelled  to  abandon  him, 
-and  wade  through  the  morass  as  he  best  could,  on  foot. 


JOHPi  SLOVER, 


137 


After  incredible  fatigue  and  danger,  he  at  length  reached 
the  firm  ground,  covered  with  mud,  and  frightened,  not  a 
little  at  hearing  the  yells  of  the  enemy  immediately  be- 
hind him,  and  upon  each  flank,  many  of  them  having;  cros- 
sed a few  hundred  yards  above,  where  the  mud  was  not 
so  deep.  In  a few  minutes  he  overtook  a party  of  six 
men  on  foot,  having  been  compelled  like  himself  to  aban- 
don their  horses,  and  two  of  them  having  even  lost  their 
guns.  Finding  themselves  hard  pressed  by  the  enem)> 
who  urged  the  pursuit  with  great  keenness,  they  changed 
their  course  from  an  eastern  to  a western  direction,  almost 
turning"  upon  their  own  trail,  and  bending  their  steps 
towards  Detroit.  In  a short  time  they  struck  the  same 
swampr  although  considerably  higher  up,  and  were  com- 
pelled to  wait  until  daylight  in  order  to  find  their  way 
across.  Having  succeeded  at  length,  in  reaching  the  op- 
posite sid@r  they  travelled  throughout  the  day,  directly 
towards  the  Shawnee  towns.  This,  as  the  event  proved, 
was  finessing  rather  too  much.  They  would  certainly  avoid 
their  pursuers,  but  they  were  plunging  into  the  midst  of 
the  Indian  settlements,  and  must  expect  to  meet  with 
roving  bands  of  Indians  in  every  direction. 

At  ten  o’clock,  they  halted  for  breakfast,  having  eaten 
nothing  for  two  days.  While  busily  engaged  with  their 
ration  of  cold  pork  and  corn  bread,  they  were  alarmed  by 
hearing  a halloo  immediately  behind  them,  which  was 
instantly  answered  by  two  others  upon  each  flank.  Has- 
tily dropping  their  wallets,  they  fled  into  the  grass,  and 
falling  upon  their  faces,  awaited  with  beating  hearts  the 
approach  of  the  enemy.  Presently,  seven  or  eight  Indi- 
ans appeared,  talking  and  laughing  in  high  spirits,  evident- 
ly ignorant  of  the  presence  of  the  fugitives.  In  a few 
minutes  they  had  passed,  and  the  party  cautiously  returned 
to  their  wallets.  The  fright,  however,  had  completely 
spoiled  their  appetites,  and  hastily  gathering  up  the  rem- 
nant of  their  provisions,  they  continued  their  journey, 
changing  their  course  a little  to  the  north,  in  order  to 
avoid  the  party  who  had  just  passed. 

By  twelve  o’clock,  they  reached  a large  prairie,  which  it 
was  necessary  for  them  to  cross,  or  return  upon  their 


138 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


own  footsteps.  In  the  prairie  they  would  be  much  expo- 
sed, as  an  enemy  could  see  them  at  a vast  distance,  but  to 
return  to  the  spot  from  which  they  had  started  wa9  60 
melancholy  an  alternative,  that  after  a short  and  anxious 
consultation,  it  was  determined  at  all  risk  to  proceed 
They  accordingly  entered  the  vast  plain,  which  stretched 
for  many  miles  before  them,  affording  no  means  of  conceal- 
ment but  the  grass,  and  advanced  rapidly  but  cautiously, 
until  about  one  o’clock,  when  the  man  in  front,  called  their 
attention  to  a number  of  moving  objects  ahead,  which 
seemed  to  approach  them.  The  grass  was  high,  and  the 
objects  indistinct. 

They  might  be  Indians,  or  elk,  or  buffalo;  but  whoever 
or  whatever  they  were,  it  would  be  as  well  perhaps  not  to 
await  their  coming.  They  accordingly  crawled  aside,  and 
again  lay  down  in  the  grass,  occasionally  lifting  their 
heads  in  order  to  reconnoitre  the  strangers.  As  they 
drew  near,  they  perceived  them  to  be  a party  of  Indians, 
but  from  the  loose  and  straggling  manner  in  which  they 
walked,  and  the  loudness  of  their  voices,  they  were  satis- 
fied that  they  had  not  been  detected.  The  Indians  quickly 
passed  them  and  disappeared  in  the  grass.  The  party 
then  arose  and  continued  their  journey,  looking  keenly 
around  them,  in  hourly  expectation  of  another  party  of 
the  enemy. 

In  the  evening  a heavy  rain  fell,  the  coldest  that  they 
had  ever  felt,  and  from  wThich  it  was  impossible  to  find  a 
shelter.  Drenched  to  the  skin  and  shivering  with  cold,, 
they  waded  on  through  the  grass  until  near  sunset,  when 
to  their  great  joy  they  saw  a deep  forest  immediately  in 
front,  where  they  could  obtain  shelter  as  well  from  the 
storm  as  the  enemy.  The  rain,  however,  which  had  pour- 
ed in  torrents  while  they  were  exposed  to  it,  ceased  at  once 
as  soon  as  they  had  reached  a shelter.  Considering  this 
a good  omen,  they  encamped  for  the  night,  and  on  the  fol- 
lowing morning,  recommenced  their  journey  with  renewed 
spirits.  They  were  much  delayed,  however,  by  the  infir- 
mity of  two  of  their  men,  one  of  whom  had  burnt  his  foot 
severely,  and  the  other’s  knees  were  swollen  with  the 
rheumatism* 


JOHN  SLOVER. 


189 


The  rheumatic  traveller,  at  length,  fell  considerably 
behind.  The  party  halted,  hallooed  for  him,  and  whistled 
‘joudly  upon  their  chargers,  but  in  vain.  They  saw  him 
no  more  on  their  march,  although  he  afterwards  reached 
Wheeling  in  safety,  while  his  stronger  companions,  as  we 
shall  quickly  see,  were  not  so  fortunate.  They  had  now 
again  shifted  their  course,  and  were  marching  in  a straight 
direction  towards  Pittsburgh.  They  had  passed  over  the 
most  dangerous  part  of  the  road,  and  had,  thus  far,  got  the 
first  view  of  every  enemy  who  appeared. 

On  the  morning  of  the  third  day,  however,  a party  of 
Indians,  who  had  secretly  dogged  them  from  the  prairie, 
(through  which  their  trail  had  been  broad  and  obvious,) 
had  now  outstripped  them,  and  lay  in  ambush  on  their 
road.  The  first  intimation  which  Slover  had  of  their 
existence,  was  a close  discharge  of  rifles,  which  killed 
two  of  their  party.  The  four  survivers  instantly  ran  to 
the  trees,  but  two  of  their  guns  had  been  left  in  the 
swamp,  so  that  two  only  remained  fit  for  service.  Slover, 
whose  gun  was  in  good  order,  took  aim  at  the  foremost 
Indian,  who,  raising  his  hand  warningly,  told  him  not  to 
fire,  and  he  should  be  treated  kindly.  Slover  and  his  two 
unarmed  companions  instantly  surrendered,  but  John  Paul, 
a youth,  refused  to  be  included  in  the  capitulation,  and 
being  equally  bold  and  active,  completely  baffled  his  pur- 
suers and  came  safely  into  Wheeling. 

One  of  the  Indians,  instantly  recognised  Slover,  having 
been  present  at  his  capture  many  years  before,  and  hav- 
ing afterwards  lived  with  him  at  Sandusky.  He  called 
him  by  his  Indian  name,  (Mannuchcothe,)  and  reproached 
him  indignantly  for  bearing  arms  against  his  brothers 
Slover  was  somewhat  confused  at  the  charge,  fearing  that 
his  recognition  would  be  fatal  to  him  when  he  should 
reach  the  Indian  towns.  They  were  taken  back  to  the 
prairie,  where  the  Indians  had  left  their  horses,  and  each 
mounting  a horse,  they  moved  rapidly  towards  the  nearest 
town,  which  proved  to  be  Waughcotomoco,  the  theater 
of  Kenton’s  adventure,  four  years  before.  Upon  ap- 
proaching the  town,  the  Indians,  who  had  heretofore 
been  very  kind  to  them,,  suddenly  began  to  look,  sow* 


140 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE*. 


and  put  themselves  into  a passion  by  dwelling  upon  their 
injuries.  Presently,  as  usual,  the  squaws,  boys,  &c.  came 
out,  and  the  usual  scene  commenced.  They  soon  became 
tired  of  abusing  and  switching  them,  and  having  selected 
the  oldest  of  the  three,  they  blacked  his  face  with  coal 
and  water.  The  poor  fellow  was  much  agitated,  and 
cried  bitterly,  frequently  asking  Slover  if  they  were  not 
going  to  bum  him.  The  Indians,  in  their  own  language, 
hastily  forbid  Slover  to  answer  him,  and  coming  up  to 
their  intended  victim,  patted  him  upon  the  back,  and  with 
many  honeyed  epithets,  assured  him  that  they  would  not 
hurt  him.  They  then  marched  on  to  the  large  town, 
about  two  miles  beyond  the  small  one,  (both  bearing  the 
same  name,)  having  as  usual,  sent  a runner  in  advance 
to  inform  the  inhabitants  of  their  approach. 

The  whole  village  presently  flocked  out,. and  a row  was 
formed  for  the  gauntlet.  The  man  who  had  been  blacked 
attracted  so  much  attention,  that  Slover  and  his  companion 
scarcely  received  a blow.  The  former  preceded  them  by 
twenty  yards,  and  was  furiously  attacked  by  every  indi- 
vidual. Loads  of  powder  were  shot  into  his  body,  deep 
wounds  were  inflicted  with  knives  and  tomahawks,  and. 
sand  was  thrown  into  his  eyes,  and  he  was  several  times 
knocked  down  by  cudgels.  Having  heard  that  he  would 
be  safe  on  reaching  the  council  house,  he  forced  his  way 
with  gigantic  strength,  through  all  opposition,  and  grasped 
the  post  with  both  hands,  his  body  burnt  with  powder  and 
covered  with  blood. 

He  was  furiously  torn  from  his  place  of  refuge,  how- 
ever, and  thrust  back  among  his  enemies,  when  finding  that 
they  would  give  him  no  quarter,  he  returned  their  blows 
with  a fury  equal  to  their  own,  crying  piteously  the  whole 
time,  and  frequently  endeavoring  to  wrest  a tomahawk 
from  his  enemies.  This  singular  scene  was  continued 
for  nearly  half  an  hour,  when  the  prisoner  was  at  length 
beaten  to  death.  Slover  and  his  companion  reached  the 
post  in  safety,  and  were  silent  spectators  of  the  fate  of 
their  friend.  As  soon  as  he  was  dead,  the  Indians  cut  up 
his  body,  and  stuck  the  head  and  quarters  upon  poles  in 
the  center  of  the  town. 


JOHN  SLOVER. 


141 

On  the  same  evening,  he  beheld  the  dead  bodies  of 
young  Crawford  and  Colonel  Harrison,  and  a third  whom 
he  supposed  to  be  Colonel  McCleland,  the  second  in  com- 
mand. Their  bodies  were  black  and  mangled,  like  that 
of  their  unfortunate  companion,  having  been  beaten  to 
death  a few  hours  before  their  arrival.  As  he  passed  by 
the  bodies,  the  Indians  smiled  maliciously,  and  asked  if  he 
knew  them?  He  mentioned  their  names,  upon  which 
they  nodded  with  much  satisfaction.  In  the  evening  all 
the  dead  bodies  were  dragged  beyond  the  limits  of  the 
town,  and  abandoned  to  the  dogs  and  wolves.  In  twen- 
ty-four hours,  their  bones  only  were  to  be  seen. 

On  the  following  morning, . Slover’s  only  surviving 
companion  was  marched  off  to  a neighboring  town,  and 
never  heard  of  afterwards.  Slover,  himself,  was  sum- 
moned in  the  evening  to  attend  at  the  council  house,  and 
give  an  account  of  his  conduct.  Heretofore  he  had  gen- 
erally been  treated  with  kindness,  and  on  the  first  day  of 
the  council,  he  saw  no  symptoms  of  a disposition  to  put 
him  to  death.  But  on  the  second  day,  James  Girty  arri- 
ved from  Crawford’s  execution,  and  instantly  threw  the 
whole  weight  of  his  influence  into  the  scale  against  the 
prisoner.  He  dwelt  with  much  emphasis  upon  the  ingrat- 
itude of  Slover,  in  serving  as  a spy  against  those  who 
had  formerly  treated  him  with  such  distinguished  kind- 
ness, and  scrupled  not  to  affirm,  that  in  a confidential 
conversation  which  he  had  had  with  the  prisoner,  on  that 
morning,  he  had  asked  him  « how  he  would  like  to  live 
again  with  his  old  friends?” — Upon  which  Slover  had 
laughed,  and  replied,  that  « he  would  stay  until  he  had  an 
opportunity  of  taking  a scalp,  and  would  then  steal  a 
horse  and  return  to  the  whites.” 

Slover  knew  many  of  his  judges  by  name,  spoke  their 
language  fluently,  and  made  a vigorous  defence.  He 
said,  that  during  the  whole  twelve  years  of  his  former 
captivity  among  them,  he  had  given  ample  proofs  of  his 
fidelity  to  the  Indians.  That,  although  he  had  a thousand 
opportunities,  he  had  never  once  attempted  an  escape, 
and  there  were  several  now  present  who  could  testify 
that,  at  the  treaty  of  Fort  Pitt,  he  had  left  thei*  'will 


142 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


luctanse  in  compliance  with  the  earnest  solicitations  of  hfe 
family.  That  he  had  then  taken  leave  of  them  publicly, 
in  broad  daylight,  in  time  of  profound  peace,  and  with 
their  full  approbation.  That  he  then  had  no  idea  of  the 
existence  of  a future  war;  but  when  war  came,  it  was 
his  duty  to  accompany  his  countrymen  to  the  field  against 
the  Indians,  precisely  as  he  would  have  accompanied  the 
Indians  formerly  against  the  whites.  That  it  was  the 
undoubted  duty  of  every  warrior  to  serve  his  country, 
without  regard  to  his  own  private  feelings  of  attachment; 
that  he  had  done  so;  and  if  the  Indians  thought  it  worthy 
of  death,  they  could  inflict  the  penalty  upon  him ! — ha 
was  alone,  and  in  their  power.  That  Mr.  Girty ’s  asser* 
tion  was  positively  false:  he  had  not  exchanged  a syllable 
with  him,  beyond  a brief  and  cold  salutation,  when  they 
had  met  in  the  morning,  not  to,  mention  the  absurdity  of 
supposing  that  if  he  had  really  entertained  such  an  idea, 
he  would  have  communicated  it  to  Girty! — the  sworn 
enemy  of  the  whites,  and  as  he  believed*  his  own  per* 
sonal  enemy. 

This  vigorous  and  natural  defence,  seemed  to  make 
some  impression  upon  his  enemies.  Girty ’s  assertion 
was  so  strikingly  improbable,  that  very  few  gave  it  credii, 
and  some  of  Slover’s  old  friends  exerted  themselves  ac- 
tively in  his  behalf.  The  council  suspended  their  decis- 
ion for  several  days,  and  in  the  mean  time,  endeavored  to 
gain  information  from  him,  as  to  the  present  condition  of 
Virginia.  Slover  informed  them  that  Cornwallis  had 
been  captured,  together  with  his  whole  army,  which  as- 
tonished them  much,  and  compelled  them  to  utter  some 
deep  guttural  interjections.  But  Girty  and  McKey  be- 
came very  angry,  swore  that  it  was  a lie,  and  renewed 
their  exertions  with  increased  ardor,  to  have  him  brought 
to  the  stake.  While  his  trial  was  pending,  he  was  un- 
bound, and  unguarded,  was  invited  to  all  their  dances* 
and  suffered  to  reside  as  an  inmate  in  the  cabin  of  an  old 
squaw,  who  treated  him  with  great  affection. 

Girty  was  blustering,  ferocious,  and  vulgar  in  his  mai* 
*&ers,  but  McKey  was  silent,  grave,  and  stern,  never 
^addressing  Slover,  and  seldom  speaking  in  council* 


soim  SLOVER. 


4£ved  apart  from  the  rest  in  a handsome  house,  built  of 
white-oak  logs,  elegantly  hewed,  and  neatly  covered  with 
shingles.  His  hatred  to  the  whites  was  deep  and  invet- 
erate, and  his  influence  was  constantly  exerted  against 
every  prisoner  who  came  before  him.  They  spared  no 
pains  in  endeavoring  to  entrap  Slover  into  some  unguarded 
words,  which  might  injure  him  with  the  Indians.  A 
white  man  one  morning  asked  Slover  to  walk  out  with 
him,  as  he  had  something  of  importance  to  communicate. 

As  soon  as  they  had  gained  the  fields,  the  fellow  halted, 
and  in  a confidential  tcne,  informed  Slover  that  he  had 
two  brothers  living  upon  the  banks  of  the  Potomac,  whom 
he  was  desirous  of  seeing  again ; that  the  Indians  had 
given  him  his  life,  for  the  present,  hut  they  were  such 
capricious  devils,  that  there  was  no  confidence  to  be 
placed  in  them,  and  he  feit  disposed  to  escape,  while  it 
was  in  his  power,  if  Slover  would  accompany  him.  Slo- 
wer heard  him  coldly,  and  with  an  appearance  of  great 
surprise,  blamed  him  for  entertaining  so  rash  a project, 
and  assured  him  that  Jie  was  determined  to  encounter  no 
-such  risk.  The  emissary  of  Girty  and  McKey  returned 
instantly  to  the  council,  and  reported  .that  Slover  had  ea- 
.gerly  entered,  into  the  project,  and  was  desirous  of  es- 
caping that  evening. 

Two  days  afterwards,  a very  large  council  was  held, 
being  composed  of  warriors  from  the  Shawnee,  Delaware., 
-Wyandott,  Chippewa,  and  Mingo  tribes.  Two  Indians 
.came  to  the  wigwam,  in  order  to  conduct  Slover  once 
more  before  his  judges,  but  the  old  squaw  concealed  him 
beneath  a large  bear  skin,  and  fell  upon  the  two  messen- 
gers so  fiercely  with  her  tongue,  that  they  were  com- 
pelled to  retreat  with  some  precipitation.  This  zeal  xn 
his  service,  on  the  part  of  ihe  old  squaw,  was  rather 
alarming  than  gratifying  to  Slover,  for  he  rightly  conjec- 
tured that  something  evil  was  brewing,  which  he  knew 
that  she  would  be  unable  to  avert.  He  was  not  Jong  in 
suspense.  Within  two  hours,  Girty  came  into  the  hut, 
followed  by  more  than  forty  warriors,  and  seizing  'Sloverv 
stripped  him  naked,  bound  his  hands  behind  him,  painted 
t jtes  body  blacky  and  bore . him  off  with  , great 


144 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


Girty  tsxulted  greatly  in  the  success  of  his  efforts,  and 
oaded  him  with  curses  and  reproaches,  assuring  him  that 
lie  would  now  get  what  he  had  long  deserved. 

The  prisoner  was  borne  off  to  a town  at  the  distance 
ff  five  miles  from  Waughcotomoco,  where  he  was  met,  as 
usual,  by  all  the  inhabitants,  and  beaten  in  the  ordinary 
manner  for  one  hour.  They  then  carried  him  to  another 
little  village  about  two  miles  distant,  where  a stake  and 
hickory  poles  had  been  prepared,  in  order  to  burn  him 
that  evening.  The  scene  of  his  intended  execution  was 
the  council  house,  part  of  which  was  covered  with  shin- 
gles, and  the  remainder  entirely  open  at  top,  and  very 
slightly  boarded  at  the  sides.  In  the  open  space,  a pole 
had  been  sunk  in  the  ground,  and  the  faggots  collected. 
Slover  was  dragged  to  the  stake,  his  hands  bound  behind 
him,  and  then  fastened  to  the  pole  as  in  Crawford’s  case. 

Fire  was  quickly  applied  to  the  faggots,  which  began 
to  blaze  briskly.  An  orator  then,  as  usual,  addressed 
the  assembly,  in  order  to  inflame  their  passions  to  the 
proper  height.  Slover  seeing  his  fate  inevitable,  rallied 
his  courage,  and  prepared  to  endure  it  with  firmness.  For 
the  last  half  hour  the  wind  had  been  high,  but  the  clouds 
were  light,  and  appeared  drifting  rapidly  away.  While 
the  oiator  was  speaking,  however,  the  wind  suddenly 
lulled,  and  a heavy  shower  of  rain  fell  which  instantly 
extinguished  the  fire,  and  drenched  the  prisoner  and  his 
enemies  to  the  skin.  Poor  Slover,  who  had  been  making 
preparations  to  battle  with  fire,  was  astonished  at  finding 
himself  deluged  all  at  once  with  so  different  an  element, 
and  the  enemy  seemed  no  less  so.  They  instantly  ran 
under  the  covered  part  of  the  house,  and  left  the  prisoner 
to  take  the  rain  freely,  assuring  him  from  time  to  time, 
that  he  should  be  burned  on  the  following  morning. 

As  soon  as  the  rain  ceased,  they  again  surrounded  him, 
dancing  around  the  stake,  kicking  him  severely,  and 
striking  him  with  sticks,  until  eleven  o’clock  at  night.  A 
tall  young  chief  named  « Half  Moon,”  then  stooped  down 
and  asked  the  prisoner  if  “ he  was  not  sleepy?”  Slover, 
somewhat  astonished  at  such  a question,  and  at  such  a 
time,  replied  in  the  affirmative.  Half  Moon  then  untied 


JOHI*  SLOVER. 


145 


him,  conducted  him  into  a strong  block  house,  pinioned  his 
arms  until  the  buffalo  tug  was  buried  in  the  flesh,  and 
then  passing  another  thong  around  his  neck,  and  tying 
the  other  end  to  one  of  the  beams  of  the  house,  left  him 
under  a strong  guard,  exhorting  him  to  sleep  soundly,  foi 
that  he  must  “ eat  fire  in  the  morning.” 

The  prisoner,  on  the  contrary,  never  closed  his  eyes 
awaiting  anxiously  until  his  guard  should  fall  asleep 
They  showed,  however,  no  inclination  to  indulge  him. 
Two  of  them  lay  down  a little  after  midnight,  but  the 
third  sat  up  talking  and  smoking  until  nearly  daylight. 
He  endeavored  to  entertain  Slover,  by  speculations  upon 
his  (Slover’s)  ability  to  bear  pain,  handling  the  painful 
subject  with  the  zest  of  an  amateur,  and  recounting  to 
the  prisoner,  the  particulars  of  many  exhibitions  of  the 
game  kind  which  he  had  witnessed.  He  dwelt  upon  the 
entertainment  which  he  had  no  doubt  Slover  would  afford, 
exhorting  him  to  bear  it  like  a man,  and  not  forget  that 
he  had  once  been  an  Indian  himself.  Upon  this  torturing 
subject,  he  talked,  and  smoked,  and  talked  again,  until 
the  prisoner’s  nerves  tingled,  as  if  the  hot  irons  were  ac- 
tually hissing  against  his  flesh. 

At  length  the  tedious  old  man’s  head  sunk  gradually 
upon  his  breast,  and  Slover  heard  him  snoring  loudly. 
He  paused  a few  moments,  listening  intently.  His  heart 
beat  so  strongly,  that  he  was  fearful  lest  the  Indians 
should  hear  it,  and  arrest  him  in  his  last  effort  to  escape. 
They  did  not  stir,  however,  and  with  trembling  hands  he 
endeavored  to  slip  the  cords  from  his  arms  over  his  wrists. 
In  this  he  succeeded  without  much  difficulty,  but  the 
thong  around  his  neck  was  more  obstinate.  He  attempted 
to  gnaw  it  in  two,  but  it  was  as  thick  as  his  thumb  and  as 
hard  as  iron,  being  made  of  a seasoned  buffalo’s  hide. 
Daylight  was  faintly  breaking  in  the  east,  and  he  expect- 
ed every  moment,  that  his  tormentors  would  summon 
him  to  the  stake.  In  the  agony  and  earnestness  of  his 
feelings,  the  sweat  rolled  in  big  drops  down  his  forehead, 
and  the  quickness  of  his  breathing  awakened  the  old  man. 

Slover  lay  still,  fearful  of  being  detected,  and  kept  his 
arms  under  his  back.  The  old  Indian  yawned,  stretched 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE* 


*46 

himself,  stirred  the  fire,  and  then  lay  down  again,  and 
began  to  snore  as  loudly  as  ever.  Now  was  the  time  or 
never!  1 He  seized  the  rope  with  both  hands  and  giving  it 
several  quick  jerks,  could  scarcely  believe  his  senses, 
when  he  saw  the  knot  come  untied,  and  felt  himself  at 
liberty.  He  arose  lightly,  stepped  silently  over  tho 
bodies  of  the  sleeping  Indians,  and  in  a moment  stood  in 
the  open  air.  Day  was  just  breaking — and  the  inhabit 
ants  of  the  village  had  not  yet  arisen.  He  looked  around 
for  a moment  to  see  whether  he  was  observed,  and  then 
ran  hastily  into  a cornfield,  in  order  to  conceal  himself. 
On  the  road  he  had  nearly  stumbled  upon  a squaw  and 
several  children,  who  were  asleep  under  a tree. 

Hastily  avoiding  them,  he  ran  through  the  cornfield, 
and  observing  a number  of  horses  on  the  other  side,  he 
paused  a moment,  untied  the  cord,  which  still  confined 
his  right  arm,  and  hastily  fitting  it  into  a halter,  approach- 
ed a fine  strong  colt,  about  four  years  old,  that  fortunately 
proved  as  gentle  as  he  could  wish.  Fancying  that  he 
heard  a door  open  behind  him,  he  sprung  upon  his  back 
as  lightly  as  a squirrel,  although  every  limb  was  bruised 
and  swollen,  by  the  severe  beating  of  the  preceding  night, 
and  as  the  woods  were  open  and  the  ground  level,  he  put 
his  horse  to  his  utmost  speed  and  was  soon  out  of  sight 
Confident  that  pursuit  would  not  be  delayed  more  than 
fifteen  minutes,  he  never  slackened  his  speed  until  about 
ten  o’clock  in  the  day,  when  he  reached  the  Scioto,  at  a 
point  fully  fifty  miles  distant  from  the  village  which  ha 
had  left  at  daylight. 

He  here  paused  a moment,  and  allowed  the  noble  ani- 
mal, who  had  borne  him  so  gallantly,  to  breathe  for  a few 
minutes.  Fearing,  however,  that  the  enemy  had  pursued 
him  with  the  same  mad  violence,  he  quickly  mounted  hi« 
horse  again,  and  plunged  into  the  Scioto,  which  was  now 
swollen  by  the  recent  rains.  His  horse  stemmed  the  cur- 
rent handsomely,  but  began  to  fail  in  ascending  th« 
opposite  bank.  He  still,  however,  urged  him  to  full  speed, 
and  by  three  o’clock  had  left  the  Scioto  more  than  twenty 
miles  behind,  when  his  horse  sunk  under  him,  having 
galloped  upwards  of  seventy  miles.  Slover  instantly 


JOHN  SLOVER. 


UT 

sprung  from  his  back,  and  ran  on  foot  until  sunset.  Hav- 
ing for  a moment,  he  heard  a halloo,  far  behind  him,  and" 
seeing  the  keenness  of  the  pursuit,  he  continued  to  run 
until  ten  o’clock  at  night,  when  he  sunk  upon  the  ground, 
and  vomited  violently.  In  two  hours  the  moon  arose,  which 
he  knew  would  enable  the  enemy  to  follow  his  trail  through 
the  night  ; and  again  starting  up,  he  ran  forward  until  day. 

During  the  night  he  had  followed  a path,  but  in  the 
morning  he  abandoned  it,  and  changing  his  course,  follow 
*d  a high  ridge,  covered  with  rank  grass  and  weeds,  which 
«e  carefully  put  back  with  a stick  as  he  passed  through 
d in  order  to  leave  as  indistinct  a trail  as  possible.  On 
that  evening  he  reached  some  of  the  tributaries  of  the 
Muskingum,  where  his  naked  and  blistered  skin  attracted 
millions  of  musquetoes,  that  followed  him  day  and  night, 
effectually  prevented  his  sleeping,  and  carefully  removed 
such  particles  of  skin  as  the  nettles  had  left,  so  that  if  hi* 
own  account  is  to  be  credited,  upon  reaching  the  Muskin- 
gum, which  he  did  on  the  third  day,  he  had  been  complete- 
ly peeled  from  head  to  foot.  Here  he  found  a few  wild 
raspberries,  which  was  the  first  food  he  had  tasted  for  fo$r 
days.  . He  had  never  felt  hunger,,  but  suffered  much  from 
faintness  and  exhaustion.  He  swam  the  Muskingum  at 
Old  Comer’s  town,  and  looking  back,  thought  that  he  put  a 
great  deal  of  ground  between  himself  and  the  stake,  at 
which  he  had  been  found  near  Waughcotomoco  ; and  that 
it  would  be  very  strange  if,  having  been  brought  thus  far, 
he  should  again  fall  into  the  power  of  the  enemy. 

On  the  next  day  he  reached  Stillwater,  where  he  caught 
two  crawfish,  and  devoured  them  raw.  Two  days  after- 
wards, he  struck  the  Ohio  river  immediately  opposite 
Wheeling,  and  perceiving  a man  standing  upon  the  Island, 
he  called  to  him,  told  him  his  name,  and  asked  him  to 
bring  over  a canoe  for  him.  The  fellow  at  first  was  very 
shy,  but  Slover  having  told  the  names  of  many  officer* 
and  privates,  who  had  accompanied  the  expedition,  he  wa* 
at  length  persuaded  to  venture  across,  and  the  fugitive 
was  safely  transported  to  the  Virginia  shore,  after  an  es- 
cape which  has  few  parallels  in  real  life,  and  which  seeno^ 
*ven  to  exceed  the  bounds  of  probable  fiction. 


148 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

In  the  present  chapter,  we  shall  notice  several  circum- 
stances, in  the  order  in  which  they  occurred,  none  of  which 
singly,  are  of  sufficient  importance  to  occupy  a chapter  to 
themselves.  In  the  autumn  of  1779,  a number  of  keel 
boats  were  ascending  the  Ohio  under  the  command  of 
Major  Rodgers,  and  had  advanced  as  far  as  the  mouth  of 
Licking  without  accident.  Here,  however,  they  observed 
a few  Indians,  standing  upon  the  southern  extremity  of  a 
sandbar,  while  a canoe,  rowed  by  three  others,  was  in  the 
act  of  putting  off  from  the  Kentucky  shore,  as  if  for  the 
purpose  of  taking  them  aboard.  Rodgers  instantly  order- 
ed the  boats  to  be  made  fast  on  the  Kentucky  shore,  while 
the  crew,  to  the  number  of  seventy  men,  well  armed,  cau- 
tiously advanced  in  such  a manner  as  to  encircle  the  spot 
where  the  enemy  had  been  seen  to  land.  Only  five  or 
six  Indians  had  been  seen,  and  no  one  dreamed  of  encoun- 
tering more  than  fifteen  or  twenty  enemies. 

When  Rodgers,  however,  had,  as  he  supposed,  complete- 
ly surrounded  the  enemy,  and  was  preparing  to  rush  upon 
them,  from  several  quarters  at  once,  he  was  thunderstruck 
at  beholding  several  hundred  savages  suddenly  spring  up 
in  front,  rear,  and  upon  both  flanks!  They  instantly 
poured  in  a close  discharge  of  rifles,  and  then  throwing 
down  their  guns,  fell  upon  the  survivers  with  the  toma 
hawk!  The  panic  was  complete,  and  the  slaughter  pro* 
digious.  Major  Rodgers,  together  with  forty -five  of  his 
men,  were  almost  instantly  destroyed.  The  survivers 
made  an  effort  to  regain  their  boats,  but  the  five  men  who 
had  been  left  in  charge  of  them,  had  immediately  put  off 
from  shore  in  the  hindmost  boat,  and  the  enemy  had  al- 
ready gained  possession  of  the  others.  Disappointed  in 
the  attempt,  they  turned  furiously  upon  the  enemy,  and 
aided  by  the  approach  of  darkness,  forced  their  way  through 
their  lines,  and  with  the  loss  of  several  severely  wounded, 
at  length  effected  their  escape  to  Harrodsburgh. 

Among  tho  wounded  was  Captain  Robert  Benham 


ROBERT  BENHAM. 


149 

Shortly  after  breaking  through  the  enemy’s  line,  he  was 
shot  through  both  hips,  and  the  bones  being  shattered,  he 
instantly  fell  to  the  ground.  Fortunately,  a large  tree 
had  lately  fallen  near  the  spot  where  he  lay,  and  with 
great  pain,  he  dragged  himself  into  the  top,  and  lay  con- 
cealed among  the  branches.  The  Indians,  eager  in  pur- 
suit of  the  others,  passed  him  without  notice,  and  by  mid- 
night all  was  quiet.  On  the  following  day,  ihe  Indians 
returned  to  the  battle  ground,  in  order  to  strip  the  dead 
and  take  care  of  the  boats.  Benham,  although  in  danger 
of  famishing,  permitted  them  to  pass  without  making 
known  his  condition,  very  correctly  supposing  that  his 
crippled  legs  would  only  induce  them  to  tomahawk  him 
upon  the  spot,  in  order  to  avoid  the  trouble  of  carrying 
him  to  their  town. 

He  lay  close  therefore,  until  the  evening  of  the  second 
day,  when  perceiving  a raccoon  descending  a tree,  near 
him,  he  shot  it  hoping  to  devise  some  means  of  reaching 
it,  when  he  could  kindle  a fire  and  make  a meal.  Scarcely 
had  his  gun  cracked,  however,  when  he  heard  a human 
cry,  apparently  not  more  than  fifty  yards  off.  Supposing 
it  to  be  an  Indian,  he  hastily  reloaded  his  gun,  and  re- 
mained silent,  expecting  the  approach  of  an  enemy. 
Presently  the  same  voice  was  heard  again,  but  much 
nearer.  Still  Benham  made  no  reply,  but  cocked  his  gun 
and  sat  ready  to  fire  as  soon  as  an  object  appeared.  A 
third  halloo  was  quickly  heard,  followed  by  an  exclama- 
tion of  impatience  and  distress,  which  convinced  Benham 
that  the  unknown  must  be  a Kentuckian.  As  soon,  there- 
fore, as  he  heard  the  expression  “whoever  you  are,  for 
God’s  sake  answer  me!”  he  replied  with  readiness,  and 
the  parties  were  soon  together. 

Benham,  as  we  have  already  observed,  was  shot  through 
both  legs!  The  man  who  now  appeared,  had  escaped 
from  the  same  battle,  with  hoik  arms  broken!  Thus  each 
was  enabled  to  supply  what  the  other  wanted.  Benham 
having  the  perfect  use  of  his  arms,  could  load  his  gun  and 
kill  game,  with  great  readiness,  while  his  friend  having 
the  use  of  his  legs,  could  kick  the  game  to  the  spot  where 
Benham  sat,  who  was  thus  enabled  to  cook  it.  When  n® 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE* 


ISO 

wood  was  near  them,  his  companion  would  rake  up  bruek 
with  his  feet,  and  gradually  roll  it  within  reach  of  Bei>  * 
ham’s  hands,  who  constantly  fed  his  companion,  and  dress- 
ed his  wounds  as  well  as  his  own — tearing  up  both  of 
their  shirts  for  that  purpose.  They  found  some  difficulty 
in  procuring  water,  at  first ; but  Benham  at  length  took  ^ 
his  own  hat,  and  placing  the  rim  between  the  teeth  of  hi* 
companion,  directed  him  to  wade  into  the  Licking,  up  to  If 
his  neck,  and  dip  the  hat  into  the  water,  by  sinking  hi* 
own  head.  The  man  who  could  walk,  was  thus  enabled 
to  bring  water,  by  means  of  his  teeth,  which  Benham 
could  afterwards  dispose  of  as  was  necessary. 

In  a few  days,  they  had  killed  all  the  squirrels  and  bird* 
within  reach,  and  the  man  with  the  broken  arms,  wa* 
sent  out  to  drive  game  within  gunshot  of  the  spot,  to  which 
Benham  was  confined.  Fortunately,  wild  turkeys  wer® 
abundant  in  those  woods,  and  his  companion  would  walk 
around,  and  drive  them  towards  Benham,  who  seldom  fail- 
'd to  kill  two  or  three  of  each  flock.  In  this  mannei,  t 
they  supported  themselves  for  several  wTeeks,  until  their 
wounds  had  healed,  so  as  to  enable  them  to  travel.  They 
then  shifted  their  quarters,  and  put  up  a small  shed  at  th® 
mouth  of  the  Licking,  where  they  encamped  until  late  in 
November,  anxiously  expecting  the  arrival  o**  some  boat, 
which  should  convey  them  to  the  falls  of  Ohio. 

On  the  27th  of  November,  they  observed  a flat  beat 
roqving  leisurely  down  the  river.  Benham  instantly 
hoisted  his  hat  upon  a stick  and  hallooed  loudly  for  helji. 

The  crew,  however,  supposing  them  to  be  Indians;  at  least 
suspecting  them  of  an  intention  to  decoy  them  ashore, 
paid  no  attention  to  their  signals  of  distress,  but  instantly 
put  over  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  and  manning 
every  oar,  endeavored  to  pass  them  as  rapidly  as  possible. 
Benham  beheld  them  pass  him  with  a sensation  bordering 
on  despair,  for  the  place  was  much  frequented  by  Indiana, 
and  the  approach  of  winter  threatened  them  with  destruc- 
tion, unless  speedily  relieved.  At  length,  after  the  boat 
had  passed  him  nearly  half  a mile,  he  saw  a canoe  put  off 
from  its  stern,  and  cautiously  approach  the  Kentucky 
^re,  evidently  reconnoitering  them  with  great  suspicion 


ALEXANDER  McCONNEL. 


IW 


He  called  loudly  upon  them  for  assistance,  mentioned 
his  name  and  made  known  his  condition.  After  a long 
parley,  and  many  evidences  of  reluctance  on  the  part  of 
the  crew,  the  canoe  at  length  touched  the  shore,  and  Bej> 
ham  and  his  friend  were  taken  on  board.  Their  appear- 
ance excited  much  suspicion.  They  were  almost  entirely 
naked,  and  their  faces  were  garnished  with  six  weeks 
growth  of  beard.  The  one  was  barely  able  to  hobbla 
upon  crutches,  and  the* other  could  manage  to  feed  himself 
with  one  of  his  hands.  They  were  instantly  taken  to 
Louisville,  where  their  clothes  (which  had  been  carried 
off  in  the  boat  which  deserted  them)  were  restored  to 
them,  and  after  a few  weeks  confinement,  both  were  pes* 
fectly  restored. 

Benham  afterwards  served  in  the  northwest  throughout 
the  whole  of  the  Indian  war,  accompanied  the  expedition* 
of  Harmer  and  Wilkinson,  shared  in  the  disaster  of  St 
Clair,  and  afterward  in  the  triumph  of  Wayne.  Upon  th* 
I’eturn  of  peace,  he  bought  the  land  upon  which  Rodger* 
had  been  defeated,  and  ended  his  days  in  tranquillity, 
amid  the  scenes  which  had  witnessed  his  sufferings. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1780,  Mr.  Alexander  McConne*, 
of  Lexington,  Ky.  went  into  the  woods  on  foot,  to  hunt 
deer.  He  soon  killed  a large  buck,  and  returned  homn 
for  a horse,  in  order  to  bring  it  in.  During  his  absence^ 
a party  of  five  Indians,  on  one  of  their  usual  skulking  ex- 
peditions, accidentally  stumbled  on  the  body  of  the  dee% 
and  perceiving  that  it  had  been  recently  killed,  they  na 
turally  supposed  that  the  hunter  would  speedily  return  to 
•ecure  the  flesh.  Three  of  them,  therefore,  took  their 
italions  within  close  rifle  shot  of  the  deer,  while  the  other 
two  followed  the  trail  of  the  hunter,  and  waylaid  the  path 
by  which  he  was  expected  to  return.  McConnel,  expect- 
ing no  danger,  rode  carelessly  along  the  path,  which  th* 
iwo  scouts  were  watching,  until  he  had  come  within  view 
of  the  deer,  when  he  was  fired  upon  by  the  whole  party,, 
and  his  horse  killed.  While  laboring  to  extricate  himself 
from  the  dying  animal,  he  was  seized  by  his  enemies,  in- 
stantly overpowered,  and  borne  off  as  a prisoner. 

His  captors,  however,  seemed  to  be  a merry,  good  nx* 


7Y  61- 


?152  WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 

W' 

tured  set  of  fellows,  and  permitted  him  to  accompany  them  \ d 
unbound;  and,  what  was  rather  extraordinary,  allowed  him  mi* 
to  retain  his  gun  and  hunting  accoutrements.  He  accom- 
panied  them  with  great  apparent  cheerfulness  through  the  0 
day,  and  displayed  his  dexterity  in  shooting  deer  for  the 
use  of  the  company,  until  they  began  to  regard  him  with  t 
great  partiality.  Having  travelled  with  them  in  this  man- 
ner for  several  days,  they  at  length  reached  the  banks  of 
the  Ohio  river.  Heretofore,  the  Indians  had  taken  the 
precaution  to  bind  him  at  night,  although  not  very  secure- 
ly; but  on  that  evening,  he  remonstrated  with  them  on  the  2 
subject,  and  complained  so  strongly  of  the  pain  which  the 
cords  gave  him,  that  they  merely  wrapped  the  buffalo  tug 
loosely  around  his  wrists,  and  having  tied  it  in  an  easy  m 
knot,  and  attached  the  extremities  of  the  rope  to  their  own 
bodies,  in  order  to  prevent  his  moving  without  awakening 
them,  they  very  composedly  went  to  sleep,  leaving  the 
prisoner  to  follow  their  example  or  not,  as  he  pleased. 

McConnel  determined  to  effect  his  escape  that  night,  i: 
possible,  as  on  the  following  night  they  would  cross  the 
river,  which  would  render  it  much  more  difficult.  He, 
therefore,  lay  quietly  until  near  midnight,  anxiously  ru- 
minating upon  the  best  means  of  effecting  his  object.  Ac- 
cidentally casting  his  eyes  in  the  direction  of  his  feet,  they 
fell  upon  the  glittering  blade  of  a knife,  which  had  escaped 
its  sheath,  and  was  now  lying  near  the  feet  of  one  of  the 
Indians.  To  reach  it  with  his  hands,  without  disturbing 
the  two  Indians,  to  whom  he  was  fastened,  was  impossible, 
and  it  was  very  hazardous  to  attempt  to  draw  it  up  with 
his  feet.  This,  however,  he  attempted.  With  much  dif- 
ficulty he  grasped  the  blade  between  his  toes,  and  after 
repeated  and  iong  continued  efforts,  succeeded  at  length 
in  bringing  it  within  reach  of  his  hands. 

To  cut  his  cords,  was  then  but  the  work  of  a moment, 
and  gradually  and  silently  extricating  his  person  from  the 
arms  of  the  Indians,  he  walked  to  the  fire  and  sat  down. 

He  saw  that  his  work  was  but  half  done.  That  if  he 
should  attempt  to  return  home,  without  destroying  his 
anemies,  he  would  assuredly  be  pursued  and  probably 
.overtaken,  when  his  fate  would  be  certain.  On  the  other 


ALEXANDER  McCONNEL. 


153 


land,  it  seemed  almost  impossible  for  a single  man  to  suc- 
ceed in  a conflict  with  five  Indians,  even  although  unarmed 
md  asleep.  He  could  not  hope  to  deal  a blow  with  his 
inife  so  silently  and  fatally,  as  to  destroy  each  one  of  his 
enemies  in  turn,  without  awakening  the  rest.  Their 
slumbers  were  proverbially  light  and  restless;  and  if  he 
failed  with  a single  one,  he  must  instantly  be  overpowered 
by  the  survivers.  The  knife,  therefore,  was  out  of  the 
question. 

After  anxious  reflection  for  a few  minutes,  he  formed 
bis  plan.  The  guns  of  the  Indians  were  stacked  near  the 
{ire;  their  knives  and  tomahawks  were  in  sheaths  by  their 
sides.  The  latter  he  dared  not  touch  for  fear  of  awaken- 
ing their  owners;  but  the  former  he  carefully  removed, 
with  the  exception  of  two,  and  hid  them  in  the  woods, 
where  he. knew  the  Indians  would  not  readily  find  them. 
He  then  returned  to  the  spot  where  the  Indians  were  still 
sleeping,  perfectly  ignorant  of  the  fate  preparing  for  them, 
and  taking  a gun  in  each  hand,  he  rested  the  muzzles  upon 
a log  within  six  feet  of  his  victims,  and  having  taken  de- 
liberate aim  at  the  head  of  one,  and  the  heart  of  another, 
he  pulled  both  triggers  at  the  same  moment. 

Both  shots  were  fatal.  At  the  report  of  their  guns, 
the  others  sprung  to  their  feet,  and  stared  wildly  around 
them.  McConnel,  who  had  run  instantly  to  the  spot 
where  the  other  rifles  were  hid,  hastily  seized  one  of 
them  and  fired  at  two  of  his  enemies,  who  happened  to 
stand  in  a line  with  each  other.  The  nearest  fell  dead, 
being  shot  through  the  centre  of  the  body;  the  second 
fell  also,  bellowing  loudly,  but  quickly  recovering,  limped 
off  into  the  woods  as  fast  as  possible.  The  fifth,  and  only 
one  who  remained  unhurt,  darted  off  like  a deer,  with  a 
yell  which  announced  equal  terror  and  astonishment. 
McConnel,  not  wishing  to  fight  any  more  such  battles, 
selected  his  own  rifle  from  the  stack,  and  made  the  best 
of  his  way  to  Lexington,  where  he  arrived  safely  within 
two  days. 

Shortly  afterwards,  Mrs.  Dunlap,  of  Fayette,  who  had 
been  several  months  a prisoner  amongst  the  Indians  on 
Mad  river,  made  her  escape,  and  returned  to  Lexington, 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


I&4 

She  reported,  that  the  surviver  returned  to  his  tribe  whk 
a lamentable  tale.  He  related  that  they  had  taken  a fine 
young  hunter  near  Lexington,  and  had  brought  him  safely 
as  far  as  the  Ohio;  that  while  encamped  upon  the  bank 
of  the  river,  a large  party  of  white  men  had  fallen  upon 
them  in  the  night,  and  killed  all  his  companions,  .together 
with  the  poor  defenceless  prisoner,  who  lay  bound  hand 
and  foot,  unable  either  to  escape  or  resist!! 

Early  in  May,  1781,  McAfee’s  station,  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Harrodsburgh,  was  alarmed.  On  the  morning 
of  the  9th,  Samuel  McAfee,  accompanied  by  another  man, 
left  the  fort  in  order  to  visit  a small  plantation  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  at  the  distance  of  three  hundred  yards 
from  the  gate,  they  were  fired  upon  by  a party  of  Indiana 
in  ambush.  The  man  who  accompanied  him  instantly 
fell,  and  McAfee  attempted  to  regain  the  fort.  While 
running  rapidly  for  .that  purpose,  he  found  himself  sud- 
denly intercepted  by  .an  Indian,  who,  springing  out  of  the 
canebrake,  planted  himself  directly  in  his  path.  There 
was  no  time  for  compliments.  Each  glared  upon  the 
other  for  an  instant  in  silence,  and  both  raising  their 
gams  at  the  same  moment,  pulled  the  triggers  together. 
The  Indian’s  rifle  snapped,  while  McAfee’s  ball  passed 
directly  through  his  brain.  Having  no  time  to  reload  his 
gun,  he  sprung  over  the  body  of  his  antagonist,  and  con- 
tinued his  flight  to  the  fort. 

When  within  one  hundred  yards  of  the  gate,  he  wa3 
met  by  his  two  brothers,  Robert  and  James,  who,  at  the 
report  of  the  guns,  had  hurried  out  to  the  assistance  of 
their  brother.  Samuel  hastily  informed  them  of  their 
danger,  and  exhorted  them  instantly  to  return.  James 
readily  complied,  but  Robert,  deaf  to  all  remonstrances, 
declared  that  he  must  have  a view  of  the  dead  Indian. 
He  ran  on,  for  that  purpose,  and  having  regaled  himself 
with  that  spectacle,  was  hastily  returning  by  the  same 
path,  when  he  saw  five  or  six  Indians  between  him  and 
the  fort,  evidently  bent  upon  taking  him  alive.  All  hk 
activity  and  presence  of  mind  was  now  put  in  requisition. 
b'He  ran  rapidly  from  tree  to  tree,  endeavoring  to  turn 
fiank5  and  reach  one  of  the  gates,  and  after  & vaii 


BRYANT  AND  HOGAN. 


1SS 

Jtty  of  turns  and  doublings  in  the  thick  wood,  he  found 
himself  pressed  by  only  one  Indian.  McAfee,  hastily 
throwing  himself  behind  a fence,  turned  upon  his  pursuer 
and  compelled  him  to  take  shelter  behind  a tree. 

Both  stood  still  for  a moment,  McAfee  having  his  gun 
cocked,  and  the  sight  fixed  upon  the  tree,  at  the  spot 
where  he  supposed  the  Indian  would  thrust  out  his 
.head  in  order  to  have  a view  of  his  antagonist.  After 
waiting  a few  seconds  he  was  gratified.  The  Indian 
slowly  and  cautiously  exposed  a part  of  his  head,  and  be- 
gan to  elevate  his  rifle.  As  soon  as  a sufficient  mark 
presented  itself  McAfee  fired,  and  the  Indian  fell.  While 
turning,  in  order  to  continue  his  flight,  he  was  fired  on 
by  a party  of  six,  which  compelled  him  again  to  tree. 
But  scarcely  had  he  done  so,*  when,  from  the  opposite 
quarter  he  received  the  fire  of# three  more  enemies,  which 
.made  the  bark  fly  around  him,  and  knocked  up  the  dust 
about  his  feet.  Thinking  his  post  rather  too  hot  for 
safety,  he  neglected  all  shelter,  and  ran  directly  for  th© 
.fort,  which,  in  defiance  of  all  opposition,  he  reached  ii 
safety,  to  the  inexpressible  joy  of  his  brothers,  who  had 
.despaired  of  his  return. 

The  Indians  now  opened  a heavy  fire  upon  the  fort,  in 
*tfheir  usual  manner;  but  finding  every  effort  useless,  they 
hastily  decamped,  without  any  loss  beyond  the  two  who 
had  fallen  by  the  hands  of  the  brothers,  and  without 
having  inflicted  any  upon  the  garrison.  Within  half  sun 
hour,  Major  McGary  brought  up  a party  from  Harrods- 
burg  at  full  gallop,  and  uniting  with  the  garrison,  pursued 
the  enemy  with  all  possible  activity.  They  soon  over- 
took them,  and  a sharp  action  ensued.  The  Indians  were 
routed  in  a few  minutes,  with  the  loss  of  six  warriors  left 
dead  upon  the  ground,  and  many  others  wounded,  who  as 
usual  were  borne  offi  The  pursuit  was  continued  for 
several  miles,  but  from-  the  thickness  of  the  woods,  and 
the  extreme  activity  and  address  of  the  enemy,  was  not 
▼ery  effectual.  McGary  lost  one  man  dead  upon  tb* 
.spot,  and  another  mortally  wounded. 

About  the  same  time,  Bryant’s  station  was  much  har- 
Leased  by  small  parties  of  the  enemy,  Thisp  as  we  has* 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE, 


,56 

•Iready  remarked,  was  a frontier  post,  and  generally  re- 
ceived the  brunt  of  Indian  hostility.  It  had  been  settled 
a 1779  by  four  brothers  from  North  Carolina,  one  of 
vhom,  William,  had  married  a sister  of  Colonel  Daniel 
Boone.  The  Indians  were  constantly  lurking  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, waylaying  the  paths , stealing  their  horses,  and 
butchering  their  cattle.  It  at  length  became  necessary 
to  hunt  in  parties  of  twenty  or  thirty  men,  so  as  to  be 
able  to  meet  and  repel  those  attacks,  which  were  every 
day  becoming  more  bold  and  frequent. 

One  afternoon,  about  the  20th  of  May,  William  Bryant, 
accompanied  by  twenty  men,  left  the  fort  on  a hunting 
expedition  down  the  Elkhorn  creek.  They  moved  with 
caution,  until  they  had  passed  all  the  points  where  ambus*’ 
cades  had  generally  been  formed,  when,  seeing  no  enemy, 
they  became  more  bold,  and  determined,  in  order  to  sweep 
a large  extent  of  country,  to  divide  their  company  into 
two  parties.  One  of  them,  conducted  by  Bryant  in  per- 
son, was  to  descend  the  Elkhorn  on  its  southern  bank, 
flanking  out  largely,  and  occupy  as  much  ground  as  pos- 
sible. The  other,  under  the  orders  of  James  Hogan,  a 
young  farmer  in  good  circumstances,  was  to  move  down 
in  a parallel  line  upon  the  north  bank.  The  two  parties 
were  to  meet  at  night,  and  encamp  together  at  the  mouth 
of  Cane  run. 

Each  punctually  performed  the  first  part  of  their  plans. 
Hogan,  however,  had  travelled  but  a few  hundred  yards, 
when  he  heard  a loud  voice  behind  him  exclaim  in  very 
good  English,  “ stop  hoys !”  Hastily  looking  back,  they 
saw  several  Indians,  on  foot,  pursuing  them  as  rapidly  as 
possible.  Without  halting  to  count  numbers,  the  party 
put  spurs  to  their  horses,  and  dashed  through  the  woods 
at  full  speed,  the  Indians  keeping  close  behind  them,  and 
at  times  gaining  upon  them.  There  was  a led  horse  in 
company,  which  had  been  brought  with  them  for  the  pur- 
pose of  packing  game.  This  was  instantly  abandoned, 
and  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Indians.  Several  of  them 
lost  their  hats  in  the  eagertiess  of  flight;  but  quickly  get- 
ting into  the  open  woods,  they  left  their  pursuers  so  far 
behind,  that  they  had  leisure  to  breathe  and  inquire  of 


BRYANT  AND  HOGAN. 


16? 

aach  other,  whether  it  was  worth  while  to  kill  their 
horses  before  they  had  ascertained  the  number  of  the 
enemy. 

They  quickly  determined  to  cross  the  creek,  and  await 
the  approach  of  the  Indians,  If  they  found  them  superior 
to  their  own  and  Bryant’s  party  united,  they  would  imme 
diately  return  to  the  fort;  as,  by  continuing  their  march 
to  the  mouth  of  Cane  run,  they  would  bring  a superior 
enemy  upon  their  friends,  and  endanger  the  lives  of  the 
whole  party.  They  accordingly  crossed  the  creek,  dis 
mounted,  and  awaited  the  approach  of  the  enemy.  B> 
this  time  it  had  become  dark.  The  Indians  were  distinct- 
ly heard  approaching  the  creek  upon  the  opposite  side, 
and  after  a short  halt,  a solitary  warrior  descended  the 
bank  and  began  to  wade  through  the  stream. 

Hogan  waited  until  they  had  emerged  from  the  gloom 
of  the  trees  which  grew  upon  the  bank,  and  as  soon  as  he 
had  reached  the  middle  of  the  stream,  where  the  light  was 
more  distinct,  he  took  deliberate  aim  and  fired.  A great 
splashing  in  the  water  was  heard,  but  presently  all  became 
quiet.  The  pursuit  was  discontinued,  and  the  party  re- 
mounting their  horses,  returned  home.  Anxious,  however, 
to  apprize  Bryant’s  party  of  their  danger,  they  left  the 
fort  before  daylight  on  the  ensuing  morning,  and  rode  rap- 
idly down  the  creek,  in  the  direction  of  the  mouth  of  Cane. 
When  within  a few  hundred  yards  of  the  spot  where  they 
supposed  the  encampment  to  be,  they  heard  the  report  of 
many  guns  in  quick  succession.  Supposing  that  Bryant 
had  fallen  in  with  a herd  of  buffalo,  they  quickened  their 
march  in  order  to  take  part  in  the  sport. 

The  morning  was  foggy,  and  the  smoke  of  the  guns 
lay  so  heavily  upon  the  ground  that  they  could  see  noth- 
ing until  they  had  approached  within  twenty  yards  of  the 
creek,  when  they  suddenly  found  themselves  within  pistol 
shot  of  a party  of  Indians,  very  composedly  seated  upon 
their  packs,  and  preparing  their  pipes.  Both  parties  were 
much  startled,  but  quickly  recovering,  they  sheltered 
themselves  as  usual,  and  the  action  opened  with  great  vi- 
vacity. The  Indians  maintained  their  ground  for  half  ait 
hour,  with  soma  firmness,  but  beingr  hard  aresuMad  in  froni 


1S8 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


and  turned  in  flank,  they  at  length  gave  way,  and  being 
closely  pursued,  were  ultimately  routed,  with  considerable 
loss,  wrhich,  however,  could  not  be  distinctly  ascertained. 
Of  Hogan’s  party,  one  man  was  killed  on  the  spot,  and 
three  others  w’ounded,  none  mortally. 

It  happened  that  Bryant’s  company,  had  encamped  at 
the  mouth  of  Cane,  as  had  been  agreed  upon,  and  were 
unable  to  account  for  Hogan’s  absence.  That,  about  day- 
light, they  had  heard  a bell  at  a distance,  which  they  im- 
mediately recognized  as  the  one  belonging  to  the  led  horse 
which  had  accompanied  Hogan’s  party,  and  which,  as  we 
have  seen,  had  been  abandoned  to  the  enemy  the  evening 
before.  Supposing  their  friends  to  be  bewildered  in  the 
fog,  and  unable  to  find  their  camp,  Bryant,  accompanied 
by  Grant,  one  of  his  men,  mounted  a horse,  and  rode  to 
the  spot  where  the  bell  wTas  still  ringing.  They  quickly 
fell  into  an  ambuscade,  and  w ere  fired  upon.  Bryant  was 
mortally,  and  Grant  severely  wounded,  the  first  being 
shot  through  the  hip  and  both  knees,  the  latter  through  the 
back. 

Being  both  able  to  keep  the  saddle,  however,  they  set 
spurs  to  their  horses,  and  arrived  at  the  station  shortly 
after  breakfast.  The  Indians,  in  the  mean  time,  had  fal- 
len upon  the  encampment,  and  instantly  dispersed  it,  and 
while  preparing  to  regale  themselves  after  their  victory, 
were  suddenly  attacked,  as  we  have  seen,  by  Hogan.  The 
timidity  of  Hogan’s  party,  at  the  first  appearance  of  the 
Indians,  was  the  cause  of  the  death  of  Bryant.  The  same 
men  who  fled  so  hastily  in  the  evening,  were  able  the 
next  morning  by  a little  firmness,  to  vanquish  the  same 
party  of  Indians.  Had  they  stood  at  first,  an  equal  suc- 
cess would  probably  have  attended  them,  and  the  life  of 
their  leader  wrould  have  been  preserved. 

We  have  nowr  to  notice  an  adventure  of  a different  kind, 
and  which,  from  its  singularity,  is  entitled  to  a place  in  our 
pages.  In  1781  ^Lexington  was  only  a cluster  of  cabins, 
one  of  which,  near  the  spot  where  the  court  house  now 
stands,  was  used  as  a school  house.  One  morning  in 
May,  McKinley,  the  teacher,  was  sitting  alone  at  his  desk* 
Easily  engaged  in  writing,  when  hearing  a slight  noise  at 


McKinley. 


I5V 

the  door,  he  turned  his  head,  and  beheld  — what  do  y.ou 
suppose,  reader?  A tall  Indian  in  his  war  paint?  bran- 
dishing his  tomahawk,  or  handling  his  knil'e?  No!  an 
enormous  cat,  with  her  forefeet  upon  the  step  of  the  door, 
her  tail  curled  over  her  back,  her  bristles  erect,  and  her 
eyes  glanced  rapidly  through  the  room,  as  if  in  search  of 
a /nouse. 

McKinley’s  position  at  first  completely  concealed  him, 
but  a slight  and  involuntary  motion  of  his  chair,  at  sight 
of  this  shaggy  inhabitant  of  the  forest,  attracted  puss’s 
attention, 'and  their  eyes  met.  McKinley  having  heard 
much  of  the  powers  of  “the  human  face  divine,”  in  quel- 
ling the  audacity  of  wild  animals,  attempted  to  disconcert 
the  intruder  by  a frown.  But  puss  was  not  to  be  bullied. 
Her  eyes  flashed  fire,  her  tail  w aved  angrily,  and  she  be- 
gan to  gnash  her  teeth,  evidently  bent  upon  serious  hos- 
tility. Seeing  his  danger,  McKinley  hastily  arose  and 
attempted  to  snatch  a cylindrical  rule  from  a table  which 
stood  within  reach,  but  the  cat  was  too  quick  for  him. 

Darting  upon  him  v/ith  the  proverbial  activity  of  her 
tribe,  she  fastened  upon  his  side  writh  her  teeth,  and  began 
to  rend  and  tear  with  her  claw's  like  a fury.  McKinley’s 
clothes  were  in  an  instant  torn  from  his  side,  and  his  flesh 
dreadfully  mangled  by  the  enraged  animal,  whose  strength 
and  ferocity  filled  him  with  astonishment.  He  in  vain 
attempted  to  disengage  her  from  his  side.  Her  long  sharp 
teeth  were  fastened  between  his  ribs,  and  his  efforts  serv- 
ed but  to  enrage  -her  the  more.  Seeing  his  blood  flow' 
very  copiously  from  the  numerous  wounds  in  his  side,  he 
became  seriously  alarmed,  and  not  knowing  what  else  to 
do,  he  threw  himself  upon  the  edge  of  the  table  and  pres- 
sed her  against  the  sharp  corner  with  the  whole  weight  e-f 
his  body. 

The  cat  now*  began  to  utter  the  most  wild  and  discor- 
dant cries,  and  McKinley,  at  the  same  time,  lifting  up  his 
voice  in  concert,  the  two  together  sent  forth  notes  so  dole- 
ful as  to  alarm  the  whole  town.  Women,  who  are  always 
the  first  in  hearing  or  spreading  news,  were  now  the  first 
to  come  to  McKinley’s  assistance.  But  so  strange  ami 
vij&uuarthjy  was  dhe  harmony  within  the  school  . th&S 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


130 

they  hesitated  long  before  they  ventured  to  enter.  Air 
length  the  boldest  of  them  rushed  in,  and  seeing  McKin- 
ley bending  over  the  corner  of  the  table,  and  writhing  his 
body  as  if  in  great  pain,  she  at  first  supposed  that  he  was 
laboring  under  a severe  fit  of  the  colic;  but  quickly  per- 
ceiving the  cat,  which  was  now  in  the  agonies  of  death, 
she  screamed  out,  “why  good  heaven  I Mr.  McKinley, 
what  is  the  matter?” 

“I  have  caught  a cat,  madam!”  replied  he,  gravely 
naming  around,  while  the  sweat  streamed  from  his  face 
^nder  the  mingled  operation  of  fright,  and  fatigue,  and 
agony.  Most  of  the  neighbors  had  now  arrived,  and 
attempted  to  disengage  the  dead  cat  from  her  antagonist ; 
but,  so  firmly  were  her  tusks  locked  between  his  ribs,  that 
this  was  a work  of  no  small  difficulty.  Scarcely  had  it 
been  effected,  when  McKinley  became  very  sick,  and  was 
compelled  to  go  to  bed.  In  a few  days,  however,*  he  had 
totally  recovered,  and  so  late  as  1820,  was  alive,  and  a 
resident  of  Bourbon  county,  Ky.,  where  he  was  often 
been  heard  to  affirm,  that  he,  at  any  time,  had  rather  fight 
two  Indians  than  one  wild  cat. 

About  the  same  time,  a conflict,  more  unequal  and 
equally  remarkable,  took  place  in  another  part  of  the 
country.  David  Morgan,  a relation  of  the  celebrated 
General  Daniel  Morgan,  had  settled  upon  the  Monongahela, 
during  the  earlier  period  of  the  revolutionary  war,  and  at 
this  time  had  ventured  to  occupy  a cabin  at  the  distance 
of  several  miles  from  any  settlement.  One  morning, 
having  sent  his  younger  children  out  to  a field  at  a con- 
siderable distance  from  the  house,  he  became  uneasy  about 
them,  and  repaired  to  the  spot  where  they  were  working, 
armed  as  usual  with  a good  rifle.  While  sitting  upon  the 
fence,  and  giving  some  directions  as  to  their  work,  he  ob- 
served two  Indians  upon  the  other  side  of  the  field  gazing 
earnestly  upon  the  party.  He  instantly  called  to  the 
children  to  make  their  escape,  while  he  should  attempt  to 
cover  their  retreat. 

The  odds  were  greatly  against  him,  as  in  addition  to 
other  circumstances,  he  was  nearly  seventy  years  of 
age,  and  of  course  unable  to  contend  with  his  enemies  in 


DAVID  MORGAN. 


161 


running.  The  house  was  more  than  a mile  distant,  but 
the  children,  having  two  hundred  yards  the  start,  and  be- 
ing effectually  covered  by  their  father,  were  soon  so  far 
in  front,  that  the  Indians  turned  their  attention  entirely 
to  the  old  man.  He  ran  for  several  hundred  yards  with 
an  activity  which  astonished  himself,  but  perceiving  that 
he  would  be  overtaken,  long  before  he  could  reach  his 
home,  he  fairly  turned  at  bay,  and  prepared  for  a strenu- 
ous resistance.  The  woods  through  which  they  were 
running,  were  very  thin,  and  consisted  almost  entirely 
of  small  trees,  behind  which,  it  was  difficult  to  obtain 
proper  shelter. 

When  Morgan  adopted  the  above  mentioned  resolution, 
he  had  just  passed  a large  walnut,  which  stood  like  a 
patriarch  among  the  saplings  which  surrounded  it,  and  it 
became  necessary  to  run  back  about  ten  steps  in  order  to 
regain  it.  The  Indians  became  startled  at  the  sudden 
advance  of  the  fugitive,  and  were  compelled  to  halt 
among  a cluster  of  saplings,  where  they  anxiously  strove 
to  shelter  themselves.  This,  however,  was  impossible, 
and  Morgan,  who  was  an  excellent  marksman,  saw  enough 
of  the  person  of  one  of  them  to  justify  him  in  risking  a 
shot.  His  enemy  instantly  fell  mortally  wounded.  -Tho 
other  Indian,  taking  advantage  of  Morgan’s  empty  gun, 
sprung  from  his  shelter  and  advanced  rapidly  upon  him. 
The  old  man,  having  no  time  to  reload  his  gun,  was  com- 
pelled to  fly  a second  time.  The  Indian  gained  rapidly 
upon  him,  and  when  within  twenty  steps,  fired,  but  with 
so  unsteady  an  aim,  that  Morgan  was  totally  unhurt,  the 
ball  having  passed  over  his  shoulder. 

He  now  again  stood  at  bay,  clubbing  his  rifle  for  a 
blow,  whila  the  Indian  dropping  his  empty  gun,  brandished 
his  tomahawk  and  prepared  to  throw  it  at  his  enemy. 
Morgan  struck  with  the  but  of  his  gun,  and  the  Indian 
whirled  his  tomahawk  at  one  and  the  same  moment. 
Both  blows  took  effect;  and  both  were  at  once  wounded 
and  disarmed.  The  breech  of  the  rifle  was  broken 
against  the  Indian’s  skull,  and  the  edge  of  the  tomahawk 
was  shattered  against  the  barrel  of  the  rifle,  having  first 
cut  off  tw’o  of  the  fingers  of  Morgan’s  left  hand.  The 


762'  WESTERN  ADVENTURE, 

Indian  then  attempting  to  draw  his  krife,  Morgan  grapu, 
pled  him  and  bore  him  to  the  ground.  A furious  struggle 
ensued,  in  which  the  old  man’s  strength  failed,  and  the 
Indian  succeeded  in  turning  him. 

Planting  his  knee  in  the  breast  of  his  enemy,  and  yell- 
ing loudly,  as  is  usual  with  them  upon  any  turn  of  fortune, 
he  again  felt  for  his  knife  in  order  to  terminate  the  strug- 
gle at  once;  but  having  lately  stolen  a woman’s  apron, 
and  tied  it  around  his  waist,  his  knife  was  so  much  con- 
fined, that  he  had  great  difficulty  in  finding  the  handle. 
Morgan,  in  the  mean  time,  being  a regular  pugilist,  ac- 
cording to  the  custom  of  Virginia,  and  perfectly  at  home 
in  a ground  struggle,  took  advantage  of  the  awkwardness 
of  the  Indian,  and  got  one  of  the  fingers  of  his  right  hand 
between  his  teeth.  The  Indian  tugged  and  roared  in 
vain,  struggling  to  extricate  it.  Morgan  held  him  fast, 
and  began  to  assist  him  in  hunting  for  the  knife.  Each 
seized  it  at  the  same  moment,  the  Indian  by  the  blade 
and  Morgan  by  the  handle,  but  with  a very  slight  hold. 

The  Indian  having  the  firmest  hold,  began  to  draw  the 
knife  further  out  of  its  sheath,  when  Morgan  suddenly 
giving  his  finger  a furious  bite,  twitched  the  knife  dexter- 
ously through  his-  hand,  cutting  it  severely.  Both  now 
sprung  to  their  feet,  Morgan  brandishing  his  adversary’s 
knife,  and  still  holding  his  finger  between  his  teeth.  In 
vain  the  poor  Indian  struggled  to  get  away,  rearing, 
plunging,  and  bolting  like  an  unbroken  colt.  The  teeth 
of  the  white  man  were  like  a vise,  and  he  at  length  suc- 
ceeded in  giving  him  a stab  in  the  side.  The  Indian 
received  it  without  falling,  the  knife  having  struck  his 
ribs;  but  a second  blow,  aimed  at  the  stomach,  proved 
more  effectual,  and  the  savage  fell.  Morgan  thrust  the 
knife,  handle  and  all,  into  the  cavity  of  the  body,  directed 
it  upward,  and  starting  to  his  feet,  made  the  best  of  his 
way  home. 

The  neighborhood  was  quickly  alarmed,  and  hurrying  to 
the  spot  where  the  struggle  had  taken  place,  they  found 
the  first  Indian  lying  where  he  had  fallen,  but  the  second 
had  disappeared.  A broad  trail  of  blood,  however,  con- 
ducted to  a fallen-  tree  top,  within  one  hundred  yards  of 


ADAM  POE. 


163 

the  spot,  into  which  the  poor  fellow  had  dragged  himself, 
and  where  he  now  lay  bleeding,  but  still  alive.  He  had 
plucked  the  knife  from  his  wound,  and  was  endeavoring 
to  dress  it  with  the  stolen  apron  which  had  cost  him  his 
fife,  when  his  enemies  approached.  The  love  of  life 
appeared  still  strong  within  him,  however.  He  greeted 
them  with  what  was  intended  for  an  insinuating  smile, 
held  out  his  hand  and  exclaimed  in  broken  English, 
“how  de  do,  broder!  how  de  do!  glad  to  see  you!”  But 
poor  fellow,  the  love  was  all  on  his  side.  Their  brother- 
hood extended  only  to  tomahawking,  scalping,  and  skin- 
ning him,  all  of  which  operations  were  performed  within 
a few  minutes  after  the  meeting.  To  such  an  extent 
had  mutual  injury  inflamed  both  parties. 

About  the  middle  of  July,  1782,  seven  Wyandotls 
crossed  the  Ohio  a few  miles  above  Wheeling,  and  com- 
mitted great  depredations  upon  the  southern  shore,  killing 
an  old  man  whom  they  found  alone  in  his  cabin,  and 
spreading  terror  throughout  the  neighborhood.  Within  a 
few  hours  after  their  retreat,  eight  men  assembled  from 
different  parts  of  the  small  settlement  and  pursued  the 
enemy  with  great  expedition.  Among  the  most  active 
and  efficient  of  the  party  were  two  brothers,  Adam  and 
Andrew  Poe.  Adam  was  particularly  popular.  In 
strength,  action,  and  hardihood,  he  had  no  equal,  being 
finely  formed  and  inured  to  all  the  perils  of  the  woods. 
They  had  not  followed  the  trail  far,  before  they  became 
satisfied  that  the  depredators  were  conducted  by  Big  Foot, 
a renowned  chief  of  the  Wyandott  tribe,  who  derived  his 
name  from  the  immense  size  of  his  feet. 

His  height  considerably  exceeded  six  feet,  and  his 
strength  was  represented  as  Herculean.  He  had  also 
five  brothers,  but  little  inferior  to  himself  in  size  and 
courage,  and  as  they  generally  went  in  company,  they 
were  the  terror  of  the  whole-  country.  Adam  Poe  was 
overjoyed  at  the  idea  of  measuring  his  strength  with  that 
of  so  celebrated  a chief,  and  urged  the  pursuit  with  a 
keenness  which  quickly  brought  him  into  the  vicinity  of 
the  enemy.  For  the  last  few  miles,  the  trail  had  led 
them  up  the  southern  bank  of  the  Ohio,  where  the  foot-* 


164 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


prints  m the  sand  were  deep  and  obvious,  but  when 
within  a few  hundred  yards  of  the  point  at  which  the 
whites  as  well  as  the  Indians  were  in  the  habit  of  cross- 
ing, it  suddenly  diverged  from  the  stream,  and  stretched 
along  a rocky  ridge,  forming  an  obtuse  angle  with  its 
former  direction. 

Here  Adam  halted  for  a moment,  and  directed  his 
brother  and  the  other  young  men  to  follow  the  trail  with 
proper  caution,  while  he  himself  still  adhered  to  the  river 
path,  which  led  through  clusters  of  willows  directly  to 
the  point  where  he  supposed  the  enemy  to  lie.  Having 
examined  the  priming  of  his  gun,  he  crept  cautiously 
through  the  bushes,  until  he  had  a view  of  the  point  of 
embarcation.  Here  lay  two  canoes,  empty  and  apparently 
deserted.  Being  satisfied,  however,  that  the  Indians 
were  close  at  hand,  he  relaxed  nothing  of  his  vigilance, 
and  quickly  gained  a jutting  cliff,  which  hung  immediately 
over  the  canoes.  Hearing  a low  murmur  below,  he 
peered  cautiously  over,  and  beheld  the  object  of  his 
search.  The  gigantic  Big  Foot,  lay  below  him  in  the 
shade  of  a w illow,  and  was  talking  in  a lowr  deep  tone  to 
another  wrarrior,  wTho  seemed  a mere  pigmy  by  his  side. 

Adam  cautiously  drew  back,  and  cocked  his  gun.  The 
mark  wras  fair — the  distance  did  not  exceed  twenty  feet, 
and  his  aim  was  unerring.  Raising  his  rifle  slow  ly  and 
cautiously,  he  took  a steady  aim  at  Big  Foot’s  breast,  and 
drew  the  trigger.  His  gun  flashed.  Both  Indians  sprung 
to  their  feet  writh  a deep  interjection  of  surprise,  and  for  a 
single  second  all  three  stared  upon  each  other.  This  in- 
activity, however,  w as  soon  over.  Adam  wTas  too  much 
hampered  by  the  bushes  to  retreat,  and  setting  his  life 
upon  a cast  of  the  die,  he  sprung  over  the  bush  which  had 
sheltered  him,  and  summoning  all  his  powrers,  leaped  bold- 
ly down  the  precipice  and  alighted  upon  the  breast  of  Big 
Foot  with  a shock  which  bore  him  to  the  earth. 

At  the  moment  of  contact,  Adam  had  also  throwrn  his 
right  arm  around  the  neck  of  the  smaller  Indian,  so  that 
all  three  came  to  the  earth  together.  At  that  moment  a 
sharp  firing  was  heard  among  the  bushes  above,  announc- 
ing that  the  other  parties  were  engaged,  but  the  trio 


ADAM  POE. 


165 

below  were  too  busy  to  attend  to  any  thing  but  themselves. 
Big  Foot  was  for  an  instant  stunned  by  the  violence  of 
the  shock,  and  Adam  was  enabled  to  keep  them  both  down. 
But  the  exertion  necessary  for  that  purpose  was  so  great* 
that  he  had  no  leisure  to  use  his  knife.  Big  Foot  quickly 
recovered,  and  without  attempting  to  rise,  wrapped  his 
long  arms  around  Adam’s  body,  and  pressed  him  to  his 
breast  with  the  crushing  force  of  a Boa  Constrictor  * Ad- 
am, as  we  have  already  remarked,  was  a powerful  man* 
and  had  seldom  encountered  his  equal,  but  never  had  he 
yet  felt  an  embrace  like  that  of  Big  Foot. 

He  instantly  relaxed  his  hold  of  the  small  Indian*  who 
sprung  to  his  feet.  Big  Foot  then  ordered  him  to  run  for 
his  tomahawk  which  lay  within  ten  steps,  and  kill  the 
white  man,  while  he  held  him  in  his  arms.  Adam,  seeing 
his  danger,  struggled  manfully  to  extricate  himself  from 
the  folds  of  the  giant,  but  in  vain*  The  lesser  Indian 
approached  with  his  uplifted  tomahawk,  but  Adam  watched 
aim  closely,  and  as  he  was  about  to  strike,  gave  him  a kick 
so  sudden  and  violent,  as  to  knock  the  tomahawk  from  his 
hand,  and  send  him  staggering  back  into  the  water.  Big 
Foot  uttered  an  exclamation  in  a tone  of  deep  contempt  at 
the  failure  of  his  companion,  and  raising  his  voice  to  its 
highest  pitch,  thundered  out  several  words  in  the  Indian 
tongue,  which  Adam  could  not  understand,  but  supposed  to 
be  a direction  for  a second  attack. 

The  lesser  Indian  now  again  approached,  carefully 
shunning  Adam’s  heels,  and  making  many  motions  with 
his  tomahawk,  in  order  to  deceive  him  as  to  the  point 
where  the  blow  would  fall.  This  lasted  for  several  sec- 
onds, until  a thundering  exclamation  from  Big  Foot,  com- 
pelled his  companion  to  strike.  Such  was  Adam’s  dex- 
terity and  vigilance,  however,  that  he  managed  to  receive 
the  tomahawk  in  a glancing  direction  upon  his  left  wrist, 
wounding  him  deeply  but  not  disabling  him.  He  now 
made  a sudden  and  desperate  effort  to  free  himself 
from  the  arms  of  the  giant  and  succeeded.  Instantly 
snatching  up  a rifle  (for  the  Indian  could  not  venture  to 
shoot  for  fear  of  hurting  his  companion)  he  shot  the  lesser 
Indian  through  the  body. 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


1$6 

Bat  scarcely  had  he  done  so  when  Big  Foot  arose,  and 
placing  one  hand  upon  his  collar  and  the  other  upon  his 
hip,  pitched  him  ten  feet  into  the  air,  as  he  himself  would 
have  pitched  a child.  Adam  fell  upon  his  back  at  the 
edge  of  the  water,  but  before  his  antagonist  could  spring 
upon  him,  he  was  again  upon  his  feet,  and  stung  with  rage 
at  the  idea  of  being  handled  so  easily,  he  attacked  his 
gigantic  antagonist  with  a fury  which  for  a time  compen 
sated  for  inferiority  of  strength.  It  was  now  a fair  fist 
fight  between  them,  for  in  the  hurry  of  the  struggle  neither 
had  leisure  to  draw  their  knives.  Adam’s  superior  ac- 
tivity and  experience  as  a pugilist,  gave  him  great  advan- 
tage. The  Indian  struck  awkwardly,  and  finding  himself 
rapidly  dropping  to  leeward,  he  closed  with  his  antagonist, 
and  again  buried  him  to  the  ground. 

They  quickly  rolled  into  the  river,  and  the  struggle 
continued  with  unabated  fury,  each  attempting  to  drown 
the  other.  The  Indian  being  unused  to  such  violent  ex- 
ertion, and  having  been  much  injured  by  the  first  shock  in 
his  stomach,  was  unable  to  exert  the  same  powers  which 
had  given  him  such  a decided  superiority  at  first;  and 
Adam,  seizing  him  by  the  scalp  lock,  put  his  head  under 
water,  and  held  it  there,  until  the  faint  struggles  of  the 
Indian  induced  him  to  believe  that  he  was  drowned,  when 
he  relaxed  his  hold  and  attempted  to  draw  his  knife.  The 
Indian,  however,  to  use  Adam’s  own  expression,  “had 
only  been  possuming!” 

He  instantly  regained  his  feet,  and  in  his  turn  put  his  ad  ( 
rersary  under.  In  the  struggle  both  were  carried  out  into 
the  current,  beyond  their  depth,  and  each  was  compelled  to 
relax  his  hold  and  swim  for  his  life.  There  was  still  one 
loaded  rifle  upon  the  shore,  and  each  swam  hard  in  order 
to  reach  it,  but  the  Indian  proved  the  most  expert  swim- 
mer, and  Adam  seeing  that  he  should  be  too  late,  turned 
and  swam  out  into  the  stream,  intending  to  dive  and  thus 
frustrate  his  enemy’s  intention.  At  this  instant,  Andrew, 
having  heard  that  his  brother  was  alone  in  a struggle 
with  two  Indians,  and  in  great  danger,  ran  up  hastily  to 
the  edge  of  the  bank  above  in  order  to  assist  him.  An- 
other white  man  followed  him  closely,  and  seeing  Adam 


CONTEST  BETWEEN  ADAM  POE  AND  BIG  FOOT 


ADAM  POE. 


169 

in  the  river,  covered  with  blood,  and  swimming  rapidly 
from  shore,  mistook  him  for  an  Indian  and  fired  upon  him, 
wounding  him  dangerously  in  the  shoulder. 

Adam  turned,  and  seeing  his  brother,  called  loudly  upon 
him  to  u shoot  the  big  Indian  upon  the  shore.”  Andrew’s 
gun,  however,  was  empty,  having  just  been  discharged. 
Fortunately,  Big  Foot  had  also  seized  the  gun  with  which 
Adam  had  shot  the  lesser  Indian,  so  that  both  were  upon 
an  equality.  The  contest  now  was  who  should  load  first 
Big  Foot  poured  in  his  powder  first,  E,nd  drawing  his  ram- 
rod out  of  its  sheath  in  too  great  a hurry,  threw  it  into  the 
river,  and  while  he  ran  to  recover  it,  Andrew  gained  an 
advantage.  Still  the  Indian  was  but  a second  too  late, 
for  his  gun  was  at  his  shoulder,  when  Andrew’s  ball  en- 
tered his  breast.  The  gun  dropped  from  his  hands  and  he 
fell  forward  upon  his  face  upon  the  very  margin  of  the  river. 

Andrew,  now  alarmed  for  his  brother,  who  was  scarcely 
able  to  swim,  threw  down  his  gun  and  rushed  into  the 
river  in  order  to  bring  him  ashore;  but  Adam,  more  intent 
upon  securing  the  scalp  of  Big  Foot  as  a trophy,  than 
upon  his  own  safety,  called  loudly  upon  his  brother  to 
leave  him  alone  and  scalp  the  big  Indian,  who  was  now 
endeavoring  to  roll  himself  into  the  water,  from  a romantic 
desire,  peculiar  to  the  Indian  warrior,  of  securing  his  scalp 
from  the  enemy.  Andrew,  however,  refused  to  obey,  and 
insisted  upon  saving  the  living,  before  attending  to  the 
dead.  Big  Foot,  in  the  mean  time,  had  succeeded  ra 
reaching  the  deep  water  before  he  expired,  and  his  body 
was  borne  off  by  the  waves,  without  being  stripped  of  the 
ornament  and  pride  of  an  Indian  warrior. 

Not  a man  of  the  Indians  had  escaped.  Five  of  Big 
Foot’s  brothers,  the  flower  of  the  Wyandott  nation,  had 
accompanied  him  in  the  expedition,  and  all  perished.  It 
is  said  that  the  news  of  this  calamity,  threw  the  whole 
tribe  into  mourning.  Their  remarkable  size,  their  cour- 
age, and  their  superior  intelligence,  gave  them  immense 
influence,  which,  greatly  to  their  credit,  was  generally 
exerted  on  the  side  of  humanity.  Their  powerful  interpo- 
sition, had  saved  many  prisoners  from  the  stake,  and  had 
given  a milder  character  to  the  warfare  of  the  Indians  in 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


170 

that  paTt  of  the  country.  A chief  of  the  same  name  was 
alive  in  that  part  of  the  country  so  late  as  1792,  but 
whether  a brother  or  son  of'  Big  Foot,  is  not  known.  Adam 
Poe  recovered  of  his  wounds,  and  lived  many  years  after 
his  memorable  conflict;  but  never  forgot  the  tremendous 
u hug  ” which  he  sustained  in  the  arms  of  Big  Foot. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  present,  like  the  preceding  chapter,  will  be  devoted 
to  miscellaneous  items  of  intelligence,  arranged  in  chro- 
nological order.  About  the  middle  of  the  summer  of  1792, 
a gentleman  named  Woods,  imprudently  removed  from  the 
neighborhood  of  a station,  and  for  the  benefit  of  his  stock, 
settled  on  a lonely  heath,  near  Beargrass.  One  morning 
he  left  his  family,  consisting  of  a wife,  a daughter  not 
yet  grown,  and  a lame  negro  man,  and  rode  off  to  the 
nearest  station,  not  expecting  to  return  until  night.  Mrs. 
Woods,  while  engaged  in  her  dairy,  was  alarmed  at  see- 
ing several  Indians  rapidly  approaching  the  house.  She 
instantly  screamed  loudly,  in  order  to  give  the  alarm,  aad 
ran  with  her  utmost  speed,  in  order  to  reach  the  house  be- 
fore them.  In  this  she  succeeded,  but  had  not  time  to  close 
the  door  until  the  foremost  Indian  had  forced  his  way  into 
the  house.  As  soon  as  he  entered,  the  lame  negro  grap- 
pled him  and  attempted  to  throw  him  upon  the  floor,  but 
was  himself  hurled  to  the  ground  with  violence,  the  In- 
dian falling  upon  him. 

Mrs.  Woods  was  too  busily  engaged  in  keeping  the  door 
closed  against  the  party  without,  to  attend  to  the  combat- 
ants, but  the  lame  negro,  holding  the’  Indian  in  his  arms, 
called  to  the  young  girl  to  cut  his  head  off  with  a very 
&karp  axe  which  lay  under  the  bed.  She  attempted1  to 
obey,  but  struck  with  so  trembling  a hand,  that  the  blow 
* was  ineffectual.  Repeating  her  efforts  under  the  direc- 
t £ion  of  the  negro,  howrever,  she  at  length  wounded  the 
so  badly,  that  the  negro  was  enabled  to  arise,  aad 


DAVIS,  CAFPREE,  AND  McCLURE. 

complete  the  execution.  Elated  with  success,  he  then 
called  to  his  mistress  and  told  her  to  suffer  another  Indian 
to  enter  and  they  would  kill  them  all  one  by  one.  While 
deliberating  upon  this  proposal,  however,  a sharp  firing 
was  heard  without,  and  the  Indians  quickly  disappeared. 
A party  of  white  men  had  seen  them  at  a distance,  and 
having  followed  them  cautiously,  had  now  interposed,  at  a 
very  critical  moment,  and  rescued  a helpless  family  from 
almost  certain  destruction. 

In  the  spring  of  1784,  three  young  Kentuckians,  Davis, 
Caffree,  and  McClure,  pursued  a party  of  southern  In- 
dians, who  had  stolen  horses  from  Lincoln  county,  and 
finding  it  impossible  to  overtake  them,  they  determined  to 
go  on  to  the  nearest  Indian  settlement,  and  make  repri- 
sals,.horse  stealing  being  at  that  time  a very  fashionable 
amusement,  and  much  practised  on  both  sides.  After 
travelling  several  days,  they  came  within  a few  miles  of 
an  Indian  town  near  the  Tennessee  river,  called  Chica- 
caugo.  Here  they  fell  in  with  three  Indians.  Finding 
themselves  equal  in  point  of  numbers,  the  two  parties 
made  signs  of  peace,  shook  hands  and  agreed  to  travel 
together.  Each,  however,  was  evidently  suspicious  of  the 
other.  The  Indians  walked  upon  one  side  of  the  road 
and  the  whites  upon  the  other,  watching  each  other  atten- 
tively. 

At  length,  the  Indians  spoke  together  in  tones  so  low 
and  earnest,  that  the  whites  became  satisfied  of  their 
treacherous  intentions,  and  determined  to  anticipate  them. 
Caffree  being  a very  powerful  man,  proposed  that  he  him- 
self should  seize  one  Indian,  while  Davis  and  McClure 
should  shoot  the  other  two.  The  plan  was  a bad  one,  but 
was  unfortunately  adopted.  Caffree  sprung  boldly  upon 
the  nearest  Indian,  grasped  his  throat  firmly,  hurled  him 
to  the  ground,  and  drawing  a cord  from  his  pocket  at- 
tempted to  tie  him.  At  the  same  instant  Davis  and  Mc- 
Clure attempted  to  perform  their  respective  parts.  Mc- 
Clure killed  his  man,  but  Davis’ gun  missed  fire.  AH 
three,  i.  e.  the  two  white  men,  and  the  Indian  at  whom 
Davis  had  flashed,  immediately  took  trees,  and  prepared 
t&ar  a skirmishy  while  Caffree  remained  upon  the^grounf 


172 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


with  the  captured  Indian,  both  exposed  to  the  fire  of  the 
others. 

In  a few  seconds,  the  savage  at  whom  Davis  had 
flashed,  shot  Caffree  as  he  lay  upon  the  ground  and  gave 
him  a mortal  wound,  and  was  instantly  shot  in  turn  by 
McClure,  who  had  reloaded  his  gun.  Caffree  becoming 
very  weak,  called  upon  Davis  to  come  and  assist  him  in 
tying  the  Indian,  and  instantly  afterwards  expired.  As 
Davis  was  running  up  to  the  assistance  of  his  friend,  the 
Indian,  now  released  by  the  death  of  his  captor,  sprung  to 
his  feet,  and  seizing  Oaffree’s  rifle,  presented  it  menac- 
ingly at  Davis,  whose  gun  was  not  in  order  for  service, 
and  who  ran  off  into  the  forest,  closely  pursued  by  the  In- 
dian. McClure  hastily  reloaded  his  gun,  and  taking  up 
the  rifle  which  Davis  had  dropped,  followed  them  for  some 
distance  into  the  forest,  making  all  those  signals  which 
had  been  concerted  between  them,  in  case  of  separation. 
All,  however,  was  vain ; he  saw  nothing  more  of  Davis, 
nor  could  he  ever  afterwards  learn  his  fate.  As  he  never 
returned  to  Kentucky,  however,  he  probably  perished. 

McClure,  finding  himself  alone  in  the  enemy’s  country, 
and  surrounded  by  dead  bodies,  thought  it  prudent  to  aban- 
don the  object  of  the  expedition  and  return  to  Kentucky. 
He  accordingly  retraced  his  steps,. still  bearing  Davis’  ri- 
fle in  addition  to  his  own.  He  had  scarcely  marched  a 
mile,  before  he  saw  advancing  from  the  opposite  direction, 
an  Indian  warrior,  riding  a horse  with  a bell  around  its 
neck,  and  accompanied  by  a boy  on  foot.  Dropping  one 
of  the  rifles,  which  might  have  created  suspicion,  McClure 
advanced  with  an  air  of  confidence,  extending  his  hand 
and  making  other  signs  of  peace.  The  opposite  party 
appeared  frankly  to  receive  his  overtures,  and  dismount- 
ing, seated  himself  upon  a log,  and  drawing  out  his  pipe, 
gave  a few  puffs  himself,  and  then  handed  it  to  McClure. 

In  a few  minutes  another  bell  was  heard,  at  the  distance 
of  half  a mile,  and  a second  party  of  Indians  appeared 
upon  horseback.  The  Indian  with  McClure  now  coolly 
informed  him  by  signs  that  when  the  horsemen  arrived, 
he  (McClure)  was  to  be  bound  and  carried  off  as  a prisoner 
with  his  feet  tied  under  the  horse’s  belly.  In  order  to 


THOMAS  MARSHALL. 


173 

explain  it  more  fully,  the  Indian  got  astride  of  the  log, 
and  locked  his  legs  together  underneath  it.  McClure 
internally  thanking  the  fellow  for  his  excess  of  candor,  de- 
termined to  disappoint  him,  and  while  his  enemy  was  busi- 
ly engaged  in  riding  the  log,  and  mimicking  the  actions 
of  a prisoner,  he  very  quietly  blew  his  brains  out,  and  ran 
off  into  the  woods.  The  Indian  boy  instantly  mounted 
the  belled  horse,  and  rode  off  in  an  opposite  direction. 

McClure  was  fiercely  pursued  by  several  small  Indian 
dogs,  that  frequently  ran  between  his  legs  and  threw  him 
down.  After  falling  five  or  six  times,  his  eyes  became 
full  of  dust,  and  he  was  totally  blind.  Despairing  of 
escape,  he  doggedly  lay  upon  his  face,  expecting  every 
instant  to  feel  the  edge  of  the  tomahawk.  To  his  aston- 
ishment, however,  no  enemy  appeared,  and  even  the  Indi- 
an dogs,  after  tugging  at  him  for  a few  minutes,  and  com- 
pletely stripping  him  of  his  breeches,  left  him  to  continue 
his  journey  unmolested.  Finding  every  thing  quiet,  in 
a few  moments  he  arose,  and  taking  up  his  gun,  con- 
tinued his  march  to  Kentucky.  He  reached  home  in  safe- 
ty, and  in  1820  was  still  alive.  This  communication  is 
from  his  own  lips,  and  may  be  relied  upon  as  correct. 

In  the  course  of  the  next  year,  many  families  came 
down  the  Ohio  in  boats,  landed  at  Maysville,  and  continu- 
ed their  route  by  land,  in  such  parts  of  the  country  a s 
pleased  them.  Out  of  a number  of  incidents,  which  at- 
tended the  passage  of  boats  down  the  river,  I shall  select 
two,  as  worthy  of  being  mentioned.  Colonel  Thomas 
Marshall,  formerly  commander  of  the  third  Virginia  reg- 
iment on  continental  establishment,  and  subsequently 
holding  the  same  rank  in  the  Virginia  artillery,  embarked 
with  a numerous  family  on  board  of  a flat  bottomed  boat., 
and  descended  the  Ohio,  without  any  incident  worthy  of 
notice,  until  he  had  passed  the  mouth  of  Kenawha.  Here, 
about  ten  o’clock  at  night,  he  was  hailed  from  the  north- 
ern shore,  by  a man  who  spoke  good  English,  and  quickly 
announced  himself  as  James  Girty,  the  brother  of  Simon, 
both  of  whom  have  already  been  repeatedly  mentioned.  The 
boat  dropped  slowly  down  within  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards 
•f  the  shore,  and  Girty  making  a corresponding  meve- 


174 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


meat  on  the  beach,  the  conference  was  kept  up  for  sever- 
al minutes.  He  began  by  mentioning  his  name,  and 
inquiring  that  of  the  master  of  the  boat. 

Having  been  satisfied  upon  this  head,,  he  assured  him 
that  he  knew  him  well,  respected  him  highly,  &,c.  &,c., 
and  concluded  with  some  rather  extraordinary  remarks. 
“ He  had  been  posted  there,  he  said,  by  the  order  of  his 
brother  Simon,  to  warn  all  boats  of  the  danger  of  permit- 
ting themselves  to  be  decoyed  ashore.  The  Indians  had 
become  jealous  of  him,  and  he  had  lost  that  influence 
which  he  formerly  held  amongst  them.  He  deeply  regret- 
ted the  injury  which  he  had  inflicted  upon  his  countrymen, 
and  wished  to  be  restored  to  their  society.  In  order  to 
convince  them  of  the  sincerity  of  his  regard,  he  had  di- 
rected him  to  warn  all  boats  of  the  snares  spread  for  them. 
Every  effort  would  be  made  to  draw  passengers  ashore. 
White  men  would  appear  on  the  bank;  and  children  would 
be  heard  to  supplicate  for  mercy.  But,  continued  he,  do 
you  keep  the  middle  of  the  river,  and  steel  your  heart 
against  every  mournful  application  which  you  may  re- 
ceive.” The  colonel  thanked  him  for  his  intelligence, 
and  continued  his  course. 

From  this  it  would  appear,  that  Girty’s  situation  was  by 
no  means  enviable.  The  superior  intelligence  which  had 
first  given  him  influence,  gradually  attracted  envy.  Com- 
binations were  probably  formed  against  him,  as  they  are 
in  civilized  life,  against  every  man  who  is  guilty  of  the 
unpardonable  offence  of  mounting  rapidly  above  his  fel- 
lows. Ambition,  jealousy,  intrigue,  combinations  for  par- 
ticular objects,  prevail  as  strongly  among  savages  as  among 
civilized  beings,  and  spring  in  each  from  the  same  source 
— a tender,  passionate,  inordinate  love  of  self — a passion 
the  most  universal,  deeply  rooted,  and  inlinitely  diversi- 
fied in  its  operations,  of  any  in  existence  — a passion  as 
strong  and  easily  offended  in  the  degraded  Hottentot,  as 
in  the  Emperor  Napoleon,  in  the  superannuated  old  woman, 
as  in  the  blooming  belle  — the  only  human  passion  which 
age  cannot  tame,  or  misery  extinguish  or  experience  cure, 
or  philosophy  expel ; which  flutters  as  strongly  in  the  jaw3 
of  death,  as  in  the  vigor  of  life,  and  is  as  buoyant  and  rid- 


JAMES  WARD. 


175 

iculous  in  the  breast  of  the  philosopher,  as  in  that  of  a 
village  beauty.  Nothing  more  was  ever  heard  of  Girty’s 
wish  to  be  restored  to  his  station  in  society;  but  his  warn- 
ing, by  whatever  motive  dictated,  was  of  service  to  many 
families-. 

About  the  same  time,  Captain  James  Ward,  at  present 
a highly  respectable  citizen  of  Mason  county,  Kv.,  was 
descending  the  Ohio,  under  circumstances  which  rendered 
a renconter  with  the  Indians  peculiarly  to  be  dreaded. 
He,  together  with  half  a dozen  others,  one  of  them  his 
nephew,  embarked  in  a crazy  boat,  about  forty-five  feet, 
long,  and  eight  feet  wide,  with  no  other  bulwark  than  a , 
single  pine  plank,  above  each  gunnel.  The  boat  was 
much  encumbered  with  baggage,  and  seven  horses  were  . 
on  board.  Having  seen  no  enemy  for  several  days,  they 
had  become  secure  and  careless,  and  permitted  the  boat 
to  drift  within  fifty  yards  of  the  Ohio  shore.  Suddenly,, 
several  hundred  Indians  showed  themselves  on  the  bank, 
and  running  down  boldly  to  the  waters  edge,  opened  a 
heavy  fire  upon  the  boat.  The  astonishment  of  the  crew 
may  be  conceived. 

Captain  Ward  and  his  nephew  were  at  the  oars  when 
the  enemy  appeared,  and  the  captain  knowing  that  their 
safety  depended  upon  their  ability  to  reg'ain  the  middle  of 
the  river,  kept  his  seat  firmly,  and  exerted  his  utmost  pow 
ers  at  the  oar,  but  his  nephew  started  up  at  sight  of  the 
enemy,  seized  his  rifle  and  was  in  the  act  of  levelling®  it, 
when  he  received  a ball  in  the  breast,  and  fell  dead  in  the 
bottom  of  the  boat.  Unfortunately,  his  oar  fell  into  the 
river,  and  the  Captain,  having  no  one  to  pull  against  him, 
rather  urged  the  boat  nearer  to  the  hostile  shore  than 
otherwise..  He  quickly  seized  a plank,  however,  and  giv- 
ing his  own  oar  to  another  of  the  crew,  he  took  the  station 
which  his  nephew  had  held,  and  unhurt  by  the  shower  of 
bullets  which  flew  around  him,  continued  to  exert  himself, 
until  the  boat  had  reached  a more  respectable  distance. 
He  then,,  for  the  first  time,  looked  around  him  in  order  to 
observe  the  condition  of  the  crew. 

His  nephew  lay  in  his  blood,  perfectly  lifeless;  the 
horses  had  been  all  killed  or  mortally  wounded..  Some 


176 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


had  fallen  overboard;  others  were  struggling  violently, 
and  causing  their  frail  bark  to  dip  water  so  abundantly, 
as  to  excite  the  most  serious  apprehensions.  But  the  crew 
presented  the  most  singular  spectacle.  A captain,  who 
had  served  with  reputation  in  the  continental  army,  seem- 
ed now  totally  bereft  of  his  faculties.  He  lay  upon  his 
back  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  with  hands  uplifted  and  a 
countenance  in  which  terror  wras  personified,  exclaiming 
in  a tone  of  despair,  “Oh  Lord!  Oh  Lord!”  A Dutchman, 
whose  weight  might  amount  to  about  three  hundred  pounds, 
was  anxiously  engaged  in  endeavoring  to  find  shelter  for 
his  bulky  person,  which,  from  the  lowness  of  the  gunnels, 
was  a very  difficult  undertaking.  In  spite  of  his  utmost 
efforts,  a portion  of  his  posterial  luxuriance,  appeared 
above  the  gunnel,  and  afforded  a mark  to  the  enemy, 
which  brought  a constant  shower  of  balls  around  it. 

«In  vain  he  shifted  his  position.  The  hump  still  appear- 
ed, and  the  balls  still  flew  around  it,  until  the  Dutchman 
-osing  ail  patience,  r .sed  his  head  above  the  gunnel,  and 
in  a tone  of  querulous  remonstrance,  called  out,  “oh  now! 
quit  tat  tamned  nonsense,  tere,  will  you!”  Not  a shot  was 
fired  from  the  boat.  At  one  time,  attei  they  had  partly 
regained  the  current,  Captain  Ward  attempted  to  bring  his 
rifle  to  bear  upon  them,  but  so  violent  was  the  agitation  of 
the  boat,  from  the  furious  struggles  of  the  horses,  that  he 
could  not  steady  his  piece  within  twenty  yards  of  the  ene- 
my$  and  quickly  laying  it  aside,  returned  to  the  car.  The 
Indians  followed  them  down  the  river  for  more  than  an 
hour,  but  having  no  canoes,  they  did  not  attempt  to  board; 
and  as  the  boat  was  at  length  transferred  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  river,  they  at  length  abandoned  the  pursuit 
and  disappeared.  None  of  the  crew,  save  the  young  man 
already  mentioned,  were  hurt,  although  the  Dutchman’s 
seat  of  honor  served  as  a target  for  the  space  of  an  hour, 
and  the  continental  captain  was  deeply  mortified  at  the 
sudden,  and,  as  he  said,  “unaccountable”  panic  which  had 
seized  him.  Captain  Ward  himself  was  protected  by  a 
post,  which  had  been  fastened  to  the  gunnel,  and  behind 
which  he  sat  while  rowing. 

In  the  month  of  August,  1786,  Mr.  Francis  Dow  ning, 


FRANCIS  DOWJNlA’<S. 


177 


then  a mere  lad,  was  living  in  a fort,  where  subsequently 
some  iron  works  were  erected  by  Mr.  Jacob  Myers,  which 
are  now  known  by  the  name  of  Slate  creek  works,  and 
are  the  property  of  Colonel  Thomas  Dye  Owings.  About 
the  16th,  a young  man  belonging  to  the  fort,  called  upon 
Downing,  and  requested  his  assistance  in  hunting  for  a 
horse  which  had  strayed  away  on  the  preceding  evening. 
Downing  readily  complied,  and  the  two  friends  traversed 
the  woods  in  every  direction,  until  at  length,  towards 
evening,  they  found  themselves  in  a wild  valley,  at  the 
distance  of  six  or  seven  miles  from  the  fort.  Here  Down- 
ing became  alarmed,  and  repeatedly  assure^  his  elder 
companion,  (whose  name  was  Yates,)  that  he  heard  sticks 
cracking  behind  them,  and  was  confident  that  Indians  were 
dogging  them.  Yates,  being  an  experienced  hunter,  and 
from  habit  grown  indifferent  to  the  dangers  of  the  woods, 
diverted  himself  freely  at  the  expense  of  his  young  com- 
panion, often  inquiring,  at  what  price  he  rated  his  scalp, 
and  offering  to  ensure  it  for  sixpence. 

Downing,  however,  was  not  so  easily  satisfied.  He  ob- 
served, that  in  whatever  direction  they  turned,  the  same 
ominous  sounds  continued  to  haunt  them,  and  as  Yates 
still  treated  his  fears  with  the  most  perfect  indifference, 
he  determined  to  take  his  measures  upon  his  own  respon- 
sibility. Gradually  slackening  his  pace,  he  permitted 
Yates  to  advance  twenty  or  thirty  steps  in  front  of  him, 
and  immediately  after  descending  a gentle  hill,  he  sudden- 
ly sprung  aside  and  hid  himself  in  a thick  cluster  of  whor- 
tleberry bushes.  Yates,  who  at  that  time  was  performing 
some  woodland  ditty  to  the  full  extent  of  his  lungs,  was 
too  much  pleased  with  his  own  voice,  to  attend  either  to 
Downing  or  the  Indians,  and  was  quickly  out  of  sight. 
Scarcely  had  he  disappeared  when  Downing,  to  his  un- 
speakable terror,  beheld  two  ravages  put  aside  the  stalks 
of  a canebrake,  and  look  out  cautiously  in  the  direction 
which  Yates  had  taken. 

Fearful  that  they  had  seen  him  step  aside,  he  determined 
to  fire  upon  them,  and  trust  to  his  heels  for  safety,  but  so 
unsteady  was  his  hand,  that  in  raising  his  gun  to  his 
shoulder,  she  went  off  before  he  had  taken  aim.  He  lost 


178 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


no  time  in  following-  her  example,  and  after  having  run  fifty 
yards,  he  met  Yates,  who,  alarmed  at  the  report,  was  hasti 
ly  retracing  his  steps.  It  was  not  necessary  to  inquire 
what  was  the  matter.  The  enemy  were  in  full  view, 
pressing  forward  with  great  rapidity,  and  “ devil  take  the 
hindmost,”  was  the  order  of  the  day.  Yates  would  not 
outstrip  Downing,  but  ran  by  his  side,  although  in  so  doing 
he  risked  both  of  their  lives.  The  Indians  were  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  country,  and  soon  took  a path  that 
diverged  from  the  one  which  the  whites  followed,  at  one 
point  and  rejoined  it  at  another,  bearing  the  same  relation 
to  it,  that  t^e  string  does  to  the  bow. 

The  two  paths  were  at  no  point  distant  from  each  other 
more  than  one  hundred  yards,  so  that  Yates  and  Downing 
could  easily  see  the  enemy  gaining  rapidly  upon  them. 
They  reached  the  point  of  re-union  first,  however,  and 
quickly  came  to  a deep  gully  which  it  was  necessary  to 
cross,  or  retrace  their  steps.  Yates  cleared  it  without 
difficulty,  but  Downing  being  much  exhausted,  fell  short, 
and  falling  with  his  breast  against  the  opposite  brink,  re- 
bounded with  violence  and  fell  at  full  length  on  the  bot 
tom.  The  Indians  crossed  the  ditch  a few  yards  below 
him,  and  eager  for  the  capture  of  Yates,  continued  the 
pursuit,  without  appearing  to  notice  Downing.  The  latter, 
who  at  first  had  given  himself  up  for  lost,  quickly  recover- 
ed his  strength  and  began  to  walk  slowly  along  the  ditch, 
fearing  to  leave  it  lest  the  enemy  should  see  him.  As  he 
advanced,  however,  the  ditch  became  more  shallow,  until 
at  length  it  ceased  to  protect  him  at  all. 

Looking  around  cautiously,  he  saw  one  of  the  Indians 
returning  apparently  in  quest  of  him.  Unfortunately,  he 
had  neglected  to  reload  his  gun,  while  in  the  ditch,  and  as 
the  Indian  instantly  advanced  upon  him,  he  had  no  re- 
source but  flight.  Throwing  away  his  gun,  wffiich  was 
now  useless,  he  plied  his  legs  manfully,  in  ascending  a 
long  ridge  which  stretched  before  him,  but  the  Indian 
gained  upon  him  so  rapidly,  that  he  lost  all  hope  of  es- 
cape. Coming  at  length  to  a large  poplar  which  had  been 
blown  up  by  the  roots,  he  ran  along  the  body  of  the  tree 
upon  one  side,  while  the  Indian  followed  it  upon  the  other, 


WIDOW  SCRAGGS  179 

doubtless  expecting  to  intercept  him  at  the  root.  But 
here  the  supreme  dominion  of  fortune  was  manifested. 

It  happened  that  a large  she  bear  was  suckling  her  cubs 
in  a bed  which  she  had  made  at  the  root  of  the  tree,  and 
as  the  Indian  reached  that  point  first,  she  instantly  sprung 
upon  him,  and  a prodigious  uproar  took  place.  The  In- 
dian yelled,  and  stabbed  with  his  knife,  the  bear  growled 
and  saluted  him  with  one  of  her  most  endearing  “hugs;” 
while  Downing,  fervently  wishing  her  success,  ran  off 
through  the  woods,  without  waiting  to  see  the  event  of 
the  struggle.  Downing  reached  the  fort  in  safety,  and 
found  Yates  reposing  after  a hot  chace,  having  eluded  his 
pursuers,  and  gained  the  fort  two  hours  before  him.  On 
the  next  morning,  they  collected  a party  and  returned  to 
the  poplar  tree,  but  no  traces  either  of  the  Indian  or  bear 
were  to  be  found.  They  both  probably  escaped  with  their 
lives  although  not  without  injury. 

On  the  night  of  the  11th  of  April,  1787,  the  house  of  a 
»vidow,  in  Bourbon  county,  became  the  scene  of  an  adven- 
ture, which  we  think  deserves  to  be  related.  She  occu- 
pied what  is  generally  called  a double  cabin,  in  a lonely 
part  of  the  county,  one  room  of  which  was  tenanted  by 
the  old  lady  herself,  together  with  two  grown  sons,  and  a 
widowed  daughter,  at  that  time  suckling  an  infant,  while 
the  other  was  occupied  by  two  unmarried  daughters  from 
sixteen  to  twenty  years  of  age,  together  with  a little  girl 
not  more  than  half  grown.  The  hour  was  11  o’clock  at 
night.  One  of  the  unmarried  daughters  was  still  busily 
engaged  at  the  loom,  but  the  other  members  of  the  family, 
with  the  exception  of  one  of  the  sons,  had  retired  to  rest. 
Some  symptoms  of  an  alarming  nature  had  engaged  the 
attention  of  the  young  man  for  an  hour  before  any  thing 
of  a decided  character  took  place. 

The  cry  of  owls  were  heard  in  the  adjoining  wood,  an- 
swering each  other  in  rather  an  unusual  manner.  The 
horses,  which  were  enclosed  as  usual  in  a pound  near  the 
house,  were  more  than  commonly  excited,  and  by  repeated 
snorting  and  galloping,  announced  the  presence  of  some 
object  of  terror.  The  young  man  was  often  upon  the 
point  of  awakening  his  brother,  but  was  as  often  restrained 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE 


180 

by  the  fear  of  incurring  ridicule  and  the  reproach  of  timidi 
ty,  at  that  time  an  unpardonable  blemish  in  the  character 
of  a Kentuckian.  At  length  hasty  steps  were  heard  in 
the  yard,  and  quickly  afterwards,  several  loud  knocks  at 
the  door,  accompanied  by  the  usual  exclamation,  « who 
keeps  house?”  in  very  good  English.  The  young  man, 
supposing  from  the  language,  that  some  benighted  settlers 
were  at  the  door,  hastily  arose,  and  was  advancing  to  with- 
draw the  bar  which  secured  it,  when  his  mother  who  had 
long  lived  upon  the  frontiers,  and  had  probably  detected 
the  Indian  tone  in  the  demand  for  admission,  instantly 
sprung  out  of  bed,  and  ordered  her  son  not  to  admit  them, 
declaring  that  they  were  Indians. 

She  instantly  awakened  her  other  son,  and  the  two 
young  men  seizing  their  guns,  which  were  always  charg- 
ed, prepared  to  repel  the  enemy.  The  Indians  finding  it 
impossible  to  enter  under  their  assumed  characters,  began 
to  thunder  at  the  door  with  great  violence,  but  a single 
shot  from  a loop  hole  compelled  them  to  shift  the  attack  to 
some  less  exposed  point;  and,  unfortunately,  they  discover- 
ed the  door  of  the  other  cabin,  which  contained  the  three 
daughters.  The  rifles  of  the  brothers  could  not  be  brought 
to  bear  upon  this  point,  and  by  means  of  several  rails 
taken  from  the  yard  fence,  the  door  was  forced  from  its 
hinges,  and  the  three  girls  were  at  the  mercy  of  the  sava- 
ges. One  was  instantly  secured,  but  the  eldest  defended 
herself  desperately  with  a knife  which  she  had  been  using 
at  the  loom,  and  stabbed  one  of  the  Indians  to  the  heart, 
before  she  was  tomahawked. 

In  the  mean  time  the  little  girl,  who  had  been  overlook- 
ed by  the  enemy  in  their  eagerness  to  secure  the  others, 
ran  out  into  the  yard,  and  might  have  effected  her  escape, 
had  she  taken  advantage  of  the  darkness  and  fled,  but  in- 
stead of  that  the  terrified  little  creature  ran  around  the 
house  wringing  her  hands,  and  crying  out  that  her  sisters 
were  killed.  The  brothers,  unable  to  hear  her  cries,  with- 
out risking  every  thing  for  her  rescue,  rushed  to  the  door 
and  were  preparing  to  sally  out  to  her  assistance,  when 
their  mother  threw  herself  before  them  and  calmly  declar- 
ed that  the  child  must  be  abandoned  to  its  fate;  that  the 


WIDOW  SCRAGGS. 


181 

sally  would  sacrifice  the  lives  of  all  the  rest  without  the 
slightest  benefit  to  the  little  girl.  Just  then  the  child  ut- 
tered a loud  scream,  followed  by  a few  faint  moans  and  all 
was  again  silent.  Presently  the  crackling  of  flames  was 
heard,  accompanied  by  a triumphant  yell  from  the  Indians, 
announcing  that  they  had  set  fire  to  that  division  of  the 
house  which  had  been  occupied  by  the  daughters,  and  of 
which  they  held  undisputed  possession. 

The  fire  was  quickly  communicated  to  the  rest  of  the 
building,  and.it  became  necessary  to  abandon  it  or  perish 
in  the  flames.  In  the  one  case  there  was  a possibility 
that  some  might  escape;  in  the  other,  their  fate  would  be 
equally  certain  and  terrible.  The  rapid  approach  of  the 
flames  cut  short  their  momentary  suspense.  The  door 
was  thrown  open,  and  the  old  lady,  supported  by  her  eldest 
son,  attempted  to  cross  the  fence  at  one  point,  while  her 
daughter  carrying  her  child  in  her  arms,  and  attended  by 
the  younger  of  the  brothers,  ran  in  a different  direction. 
The  blazing  roof  shed  a light  over  the  yard  but  little  infe- 
rior to  that  of  day,  and  the  savages  were  distinctly  seen 
awaiting  the  approach  of  their  victims.  The  old  lady  was 
permitted  to  reach  the  stile  unmolested,  but  in  the  act  of 
crossing,  received  several  balls  in  her  breast  and  fell  dead. 
Her  son,  providentially,  remained  unhurt,  and  by  extraor- 
dinary agility,  effected  his  escape. 

The  other  party  succeeded  also  in  reaching  the  fence 
unhurt,  but  in  the  act  of  crossing,  were  vigorously  assailed 
by  several  Indians,  who  throwing  down  their  guns,  rushed 
upon  them  with  their  tomahawks.  The  young  man  de- 
fended his  sister  gallantly,  firing  upon  the  enemy  as  they 
approached,  and  then  wielding  the  butt  of  his  rifle  with  a 
fury  that  drew  their  whole  attention  upon  himself,  and  gave 
his  sister  an  opportunity  of  effecting  her  escape.  He 
quickly  fell,  however,  under  the  tomahawks  of  his  enemies^ 
and  was  found  at  day  light,  scalped  and  mangled  in  a 
shocking  manner.  Of  the  whole  family,  consisting  of 
eight  persons,  when  the  attack  commenced,  only  three 
escaped.  Four  were  killed  upon  the  spot,  and  one  (the 
second  daughter)  carried  off  as  a prisoner. 

The  neighborhood  was  quickly  alarmed,  and  by  daylight, 


182 


WESTERN  AfDVENTUR 


about  thirty  men  were  assembled  under  the  command  of 
Colonel  Edwards.  A light  snow  had  fallen  during  the 
latter  part  of  the  night,  and  the  Indian  trail  could  be  pur- 
sued at  a gallop.  It  led  directly  into  the  mountainous 
country  bordering  upon  Licking,  and  afforded  evidences 
of  great  hurry  and  precipitation  on  the  part  of  the  fugi- 
tives. Unfortunately,  a hound  had  been  permitted  to 
accompany  the  whites,  and  as  the  trail  became  fresh  and 
the  soent  warm,  she  followed  it  with  eagerness,  baying 
loudly  and  giving  the  alarm  to  the  Indians.  The  conse- 
quences of  this  imprudence  were  soon  displayed*  The 
enemy  finding  the  pursuit  keen,  and  perceiving  that  the 
strength  of  the  prisoner  began  to  fail,  instantly  sunk  their 
tomahawks  in  her  head  and  left  her,  still  warm  and  bleed- 
ing upon  the  snow. 

As  the  whites  came  up,  she  retained  strength  enough  to 
wave  her  hand  in  token  of  recognition,  and  appeared  de- 
sirous of  giving  them  some  information,  with  regard  to  the 
enemy,  but  her  strength  was  too  far  gone.  Her  brother 
sprung  from  his  horse  and  knelt  by  her  side,  endeavoring 
to  stop  the  effusion  of  blood,  but  in  vain.  She  gave  him 
her  hand,  muttered  some  inarticulate  words,  and  expired 
within  two  minutes  after  the  arrival  of  the  party.  The 
pursuit  was  renewed  with  additional  ardor,  and  in  twenty 
minutes  the  enemy  was  within  view.  They  had  taken  pos- 
session of  a steep  narrow  ridge  and  seemed  desirous  of 
magnifying  their  numbers  in  the  eyes  of  the  whites,  as 
they  ran  rapidly  from  tree  to  tree,  and  maintained  a steady 
yell  in  their  most  appalling  tones.  The  pursuers,  how- 
ever, were  too  experienced  to  be  deceived  by  so  common 
an  artifice,  and  being  satisfied  that  the  number  of  the  ene- 
my must  be  inferior  to  their  own,  they  dismounted,  tied 
their  horses,  and  flanking  out  in  such  a manner  as  to  en- 
olose  the  enemy,  ascended  the  ridge  as  rapidly  as  was 
consistent  with  a due  regard  to  the  shelter  of  their  persons. 

The  firing  quickly  commenced,  and  now  for  the  first 
time  they  discovered  that  only  two  Indians  were  opposed 
to  them.  They  had  voluntarily  sacrificed  themselves  for 
the  safety  of  the  main  body,  and  had  succeeded  in  delaying 
pursuit  until  their  friends  could  reach  the  mountains  One 


WILD  VVHI1 E MAN. 


183 

of  them  was  instantly  shot  dead,  and  the  other  was  badly 
wounded,  as  was  evident  from  the  blood  upon  his  blanket, 
as  well  as  that  which  filled  his  tracks  in  the  snow  for  a 
considerable  distance.  The  pursuit  was  recommenced, 
and  urged  keenly  until  night,  when  the  trail  entered  a 
running  stream  and  was  lost.  On  the  following  morning 
the  snow  had  melted,  and  every  trace  of  the  enemy  was 
obliterated.  This  affair  must  be  regarded  as  highly  honor- 
able to  the  skill,  address,  and  activity  of  the  Indians,  and 
the  self  devotion  of  the  rear  guard,  is  a lively  instance  of 
that  magnanimity  of  which  they  are  at  times  capable,  and 
which  is  more  remarkable  in  them,  from  the  extreme  cau- 
tion, and  tender  regard  for  their  own  lives,  which  usually 
distinguishes  their  warriors. 

A few  weeks  after  this  melancholy  affair  a very  remark- 
able incident  occurred  in  the  same  neighborhood.  One 
morning,  about  sunrise,  a young  man  of  wild  and  savage 
appearance,  suddenly  arose  from  a cluster  of  bushes  in 
front  of  a cabin,  and  hailed  the  house  in  a barbarous  dia- 
lect, which  seemed  neither  exactly  Indian  nor  English, 
but  a collection  of  shreds  and  patches  from  which  the 
graces  of  both  were  carefully  excluded.  His  skin  had 
evidently  once  been  white — although  now  grievously  tan- 
ned by  constant  exposure  to  the  weather.  His  dress  in 
every  respect  was  that  of  an  Indian,  as  were  his  gestures, 
tones  and  equipments,  and  his  age  could  not  be  supposed 
to  exceed  twenty  years.  He  talked  volubly  but  uncouth- 
ly,  placed  his  hand  upon  his  breast,  gestured  vehemently, 
and  seemed  very  earnestly  bent  upon  communicating  some- 
thing. He  was  invited  to  enter  the  cabin,  and  the  neigh- 
bors quickly  collected  around  him. 

He  appeared  involuntarily  to  shrink  from  contact  with 
them;  his  eyes  rolled  rapidly  around  with  a distrustful 
expression  from  one  to  the  . other,  and  his  whole  manner 
was  that  of  a wild  animal,  just  caught,  and  shrinking 
from  the  touch  of  its  captors.  As  several  present  under- 
stood the  Indian  tongue,  they  at  length  gathered  the  fok 
lowing  circumstances,  as  accurately  as  they  could  be 
translated,  out  of  a language  which  seemed  to  be  an  “ om- 
nium gatherum”  of  all  that  was  mongrel,  uncouth,  and 


184 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


barbarous.  He  said  that  he  had  been  taken  by  the  In- 
dians, when  a child,  but  could  neither  recollect  his  name, 
nor  the  country  of  his  birth.  That  he  had  been  adopted 
by  an  Indian  warrior,  who  brought  him  up  with  his  other 
sons,  without  making  the  slightest  difference  between 
them,  and  that  under  his  father’s  roof,  he  had  lived  hap- 
pily until  within  the  last  month. 

A few  weeks  before  that  time,  his  father,  accompanied 
y himself  and  a younger  brother,  had  hunted  for  some 
ime  upon  the  waters  of  the  Miami,  about  forty  miles 
from  the  spot  where  Cincinnati  now  stands,  and  after  all 
their  meat,  skins  &c.  had  been  properly  secured,  the  old 
man  determined  to  gratify  his  children  by  taking  them 
upon  a war  expedition  to  Kentucky.  They  accordingly 
built  a bark  canoe,  in  which  they  crossed  the  Ohio  near 
the  mouth  of  Licking,  and  having  buried  it,  so  as  to  se- 
cure it  from  the  action  of  the  sun,  they  advanced  into  the 
country  and  encamped  at  the  distance  of  fifteen  miles 
from  the  river.  Here  their  father  was  alarmed  by  hear- 
ing an  owl  cry  in  a peculiar  tone,  which  he  declared  boded 
death  or  captivity  to  themselves,  if  they  continued  their 
expedition;  and  announced  his  intention  of  returning 
without  delay  to  the  river. 

Both  of  his  sons  vehemently  opposed  this  resolution, 
and  at  length  prevailed  upon  the  old  man  to  disregard  the 
owl’s  warning,  and  conduct  them,  as  he  had  promised, 
against  the  frontiers  of  Kentucky.  The  party  then  com- 
posed themselves  to  sleep,  but  were  quickly  awakened  by 
their  father,  who  had  again  been  warned  in  a dream  that 
death  awaited  them  in  Kentucky,  and  again  besought  his 
children  to  release  him  from  his  promise  and  lose  no  time 
in  returning  home.  Again  they  prevailed  upon  him  to 
disregard  the  warning,  and  persevere  in  the  march.  He 
consented  to  gratify  them,  but  declared  he  would  not  re- 
main a moment  longer  in  the  camp  which  they  now  occu- 
pied, and  accordingly  they  left  it  immediately,  and  marched 
on  through  the  night,  directing  their  course  towards  Bour- 
bon county. 

In  the  evening,  they  approached  a house,  that  which  he 
had  hailed,  and  in  which  he  was  now  speaking.  Sudden- 


WILD  WHITE  MAN. 


185 


}y,  the  desire  of  rejoining  his  people  occupied  his  mind  so 
strongly  as  to  exclude  every  ofner  idea,  and  seizing  the 
first  favorable  opportunity,  he  had  concealed  himself  in 
the  bushes,  and  neglected  to  reply  to  all  the  signals  which 
had  been  concerted  for  the  purpose  of  collecting  their 
party  when  scattered.  This  account  appeared  so  extra- 
ordinary, and  the  young  man’s  appearance  was  so  wild 
and  suspicious,  that  many  of  the  neighbors  suspected  him 
of  treachery,  and  thought  that  he  should  be  arrested  as  a 
spy.  Others  opposed  this  resolution,  and  gave  full  credit 
to  his  narrative.  In  order  to  satisfy  themselves,  however, 
they  insisted  upon  his  instantly  conducting  them  to  the 
spot  where  the  canoe  had  been  buried.  To  this  the  young 
man  objected  most  vehemently,  declaring  that  although 
he  had  deserted  his  father  and  brother,  yet  he  would  not 
betray  them. 

These  feelings  were  too  delicate  to  meet  with  much 
sympathy  from  the  rude  borderers  who  surrounded  him, 
and  he  was  given  to  understand  that  nothing  short  of  con- 
ducting them  to  the  point  of  embarcation,  would  be  ac- 
cepted as  an  evidence  of  his  sincerity.  With  obvious 
reluctance  he  at  length  complied.  From  twenty  to  thirty 
men  wTere  quickly  assembled,  mounted  upon  good  horses, 
and  under  the  guidance  of  the  deserter,  they  moved  rap- 
idly towards  the  mouth  of  Licking.  On  the  road,  the 
young  man  informed  them  that  he  would  first  conduot 
them  to  the  spot,  where  they  had  encamped  when  the 
scream  of  the  owl  alarmed  his  father,  and  where  an  iron 
kettle  had  been  left  concealed  in  a hollow  tree.  He  was 
probably  induced  to  do  this  from  the  hope  of  delaying  the 
pursuit  so  long  as  to  afford  his  friends  an  opportunity  of 
crossing  the  river  in  safety. 

But  if  such  was  his  intention,  no  measure  could  have 
been  more  unfortunate.  The  whites  approached  the  en- 
campment in  deep  silence,  and  quickly  perceived  two 
Indians,  an  old  man  and  a boy,  seated  by  the  fire  and 
busily  employed  in  cooking  some  venison.  The  deserter 
became  much  agitated  at  the  sight  of  them,  and  so  ear- 
nestly implored  his  countrymen  not  to  kill  them,  that  it 
was  agreed  to  surround  the  encampment,  and  endeavor  to 


186 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


secure  them  as  prisoners.  This  was  accordingly  attempt- 
ed, but  so  desperate  was  the  resistance  of  the  Indians, 
and  so  determined  were  their  efforts  to  escape,  that  the 
whites  were  compelled  to  fire  upon  them,  and  the  old  man 
fell  mortally  wounded,  while  the  boy,  by  an  incredible  dis- 
play of  address  and  activity,  was  enabled  to  escape.  The 
deserter  beheld  his  father  fall,  and  throwing  himself  from 
his  horse,  he  ran  up  to  the  spot  where  the  old  man  lay 
bleeding  but  still  sensible,  and  failing  upon  his  body,  be- 
sought his  forgiveness  for  being  the  unwilling  cause  of  his 
death,  and  wept  bitterly. 

His  father  evidently  recognized  him,  and  gave  him  his 
hand,  but  almost  instantly  afterwards  expired.  The  white 
men  now  called  upon  him  to  conduct  them  at  a gallop  to 
the  spot  where  the  canoe  was  buried,  expecting  to  reach; 
it  before  the  Indian  boy  and  intercept  him.  The  deserter 
in  vain  implored  them  to  compassionate  his  feelings.  He 
urged  that  he  had  already  sufficiently  demonstrated  the 
truth  of  his  former  assertions,  at  the  expense  of  his 
father’s  life,  and  earnestly  entreated  them  to  permit  his 
younger  brother  to  escape.  His  companions,  however, 
were  inexorable.  Nothing  but  the  blood  of  the  young 
Indian  would  satisfy  them,  and  the  deserter  was  again 
compelled  to  act  as  a guide.  Within  two  hours  they 
reached  the  designated  spot.  The  canoe  was  still  there 
and  no  track  could  be  seen  upon  the  sand,  so  that  it  was 
evident  that  their  victim  had  not  yet  arrived. 

Hastily  dismounting,  they  tied  their  horses  and  con- 
cealed themselves  within  close  rifle  shot  of  the  canoe. 
Within  ten  minutes  after  their  arrival,  the  Indian  appeared 
in  sight,  walking  swiftly  towards  them.  He  went  straight 
to  the  spot  where  the  canoe  had  been  buried,  and  was  in, 
the  act  of  digging  it  up,  when  he  received  a dozen  balls 
through  his  body,  and  leaping  high  into  the  air,  fell  dead 
upon  the  sand.  He  was  instantly  scalped  and  buried 
where  he  fell,  without  having  seen  his  brother,  and  prob- 
ably without  having  known  the  treachery  by  which  he 
and  his  father  had  lost  their  lives.  The  deserter  remained 
but  a short  time  in  Bourbon,,  and  never  regained  his  tran- 
quillity of  mind.  He;  shortly  afterwards  disappeared,,  but 


JOHN  MERRIL. 


187 

whether  to  seek  his  relations  in  Virginia  or  Pennsylvania, 
or  whether,  disgusted  by  the  ferocity  of  the  whites,  he 
returned  to  the  Indians,  has  never  yet  been  known.  He 
was  never  heard  of  afterwards. 

During  the  summer,  the  house  of  Mr  John  Merril,  of 
Nelson  county,  Ky.,  was  attacked  by  the  Indians,  and 
defended  with  singular  address  and  good  fortune.  Merril 
was  alarmed  by  the  barking  of  a dog  about  midnight,  and 
upon  opening  the  door  in  order  to  ascertain  the  cause  of 
the  disturbance,  he  received  the  fire  of  six  or  seven  In- 
dians, by  which  his  arm  and  thigh  were  both  broken.  He 
instantly  sunk  upon  the  floor  and  called  tipon  his  wife  to 
close  the  door.  This  had  scarcely  been  done,  when  it 
was  violently  assailed  by  the  tomahawks  of  the  enemy, 
and  a large  breach  soon  effected.  Mrs.  Merril,  however, 
being  a perfect  Amazon  both  in  strength  and  courage, 
guarded  it  with  an  axe,  and  successively  killed  or  badly 
wounded  four  of  the  enemy  as  they  attempted  to  force 
their  way  into  the  cabin. 

The  Indians  then  ascended  the  roof  and  attempted  to 
enter  by  way  of  the  chimney,  but  here  again  they  were 
met  by  the  same  determined  enemy.  Mrs.  Merril  seized 
the  only  feather  bed,  which  the  cabin  afforded,  and  hastily 
npping  it  open,  poured  its  contents  upon  the  fire.  A furi- 
ous blaze  and  stifling  smoke  instantly  ascended  the  chim- 
ney, and  brought  down  two  of  the  enemy,  who  lay  for  a 
few  moments  at  the  mercy  of  the  lady.  Seizing  the  axe,, 
she  quickly  despatched  them,  and  was  instantly  afterwards 
summoned  to  the  door,  where  the  only  remaining  savage 
now  appeared  endeavoring  to  effect  an  entrance,  while 
Mrs.  Merril  was  engaged  at  the  chimney.  He  soon  re- 
ceived a gash  in  the  cheek,  which  compelled  him,  with  a 
loud  yell,  to  relinquish  his  purpose,  and  return  hastily  to 
Chillicothe,  where,  from  the  report  of  a prisoner,  he  gave 
an  exaggerated  account  of  the  fierceness,  strength,  and. 
courage  of  the  “ long  knife  squaw !” 


188 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

In  the  month  of  April,  1792,  a number  of  horses  be 
longing  to  Captain  Luther  Calvin,  of  Mason  county,  were 
stolen  by  the  Indians;  and,  as  usual,  a strong  party  volun- 
teered to  go  in  pursuit  of  the  enemy  and  recover  the 
property.  The  party  consisted  of  thirty  seven  men,  com- 
manded by  Captains  Calvin  and  Kenton,  and  was  com- 
posed chiefly  of^young  farmers,  most  of  whom  had  never 
yet  met  an  enemy.  The  present  Captain  Charles  Ward, 
Deputy  Sheriff  of  Mason  county,  was  one  of  the  volun- 
teers, and  was  at  that  time  a mere  lad,  totally  unacquainted 
with  Indian  warfare.  They  rendezvoused  upon  the  Ken 
tucky  shore,  immediately  opposite  Ripley,  and  crossing 
the  river  in  a small  ferry  boat,  pursued  the  trail  for  five  or 
six  miles  with  great  energy.  Here,  however,  a specimen 
of  the  usual  caprice  and  uncertainty  attending  the  motions 
of  militia,  was  given. 

One  of  the  party,  whose  voice  had  been  loud  and  reso 
lute  while  on  the  Kentucky  shore,  all  at  once  managed  to 
discover  that  the  enterprise  was  rash,  ill  advised,  and  it 
prosecuted,  would  certainly  prove  disastrous.  A keen 
debate  ensued,  in  which  young  Spencer  Calvin,  then  a lad 
of  eighteen,  openly  accused  the  gentleman  alluded  to  of 
cowardice,  and  even  threatened  to  take  the  measure  of  his 
shoulders  with  a ramrod,  on  the  spot.  By  the  prompt  in- 
terference of  Kenton  and  the  elder  Calvin,  the  young 
man’s  wrath  was  appeased  for  the  time,  and  all  those  who 
preferred  safety  to  honor,  were  invited  instantly  to  return. 
The  permission  was  promptly  accepted,  and  no  less  than 
fifteen  men,  headed  by  t'he  recreant  already  mentioned, 
turned  their  horses’  heads  and  recrossed  the  river.  The 
remainder,  consisting  chiefly  of  experienced  wrarriors,  con- 
tinued the  pursuit. 

The  trail  led  them  down  on  the  Miami,  and  about  noon, 
on  the  second  day,  they  heard  a bell  in  front,  apparently 
from  a horse  grazing.  Cautiously  approaching  it,  they 
quickly  beheld  a solitary  Indian,  mounted  on  horseback, 


WARD,  CALVIN,  AND  KENTON. 


189 

and  leisurely  advancing  towards  them.  A few  if  their 
best  marksmen  fired  upon  him  and  brought  him  to  the 
ground.  After  a short  consultation,  it  was  then  deter- 
mined to  follow  his  back  trail,  and  ascertain  whether  there 
were  more  in  the  neighborhood.  A small,  active,  resolute 
woodsman,  named  McIntyre,  accompanied  by  three  oth- 
ers, was  pushed  on  in  advance,  in  order  to  give  them  early 
notice  of  the  enemy’s  appearance,  while  the  main  body 
followed  at  a more  leisurely  pace.  Within  an  hour,  Mc- 
Intyre returned,  and  reported  that  they  were  then  within 
a short  distance  of  a large  party  of  Indians,  supposed  to 
be  greatly  superior  to  their  own.  That  they  were  en- 
camped in  a bottom  upon  the  borders  of  a creek,  and  were 
amusing  themselves,  apparently  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the 
Indian  whom  they  had  just  killed,  as  they  would  occasion- 
ally halloo  loudly,  and  then  laugh  immoderately,  suppos- 
ing, probably,  that  their  comrade  had  lost  his  way. 

This  intelligence  fell  like  a shower  bath  upon  the  spirits 
of  the  party,  who,  thinking  it  more  prudent  to  put  a 
greater  interval  between  themselves  and  the  enemy,  set 
spurs  to  their  horses,  and  galloped  back  in  the  direction 
from  which  they  had  come.  Such  was  the  panic,  that  one 
of  the  footmen,  a huge  hulking  fellow,  six  feet  high,  in 
his  zeal  for  his  own  safety,  sprung  up  behind  Captain  Cal- 
vin, (who  was  then  mounted  upon  Captain  Ward’s  horse, 
the  Captain  having  dismounted  in  order  to  accommodate 
him,)  and  nothing  short  of  a threat  to  blow  his  brains  out, 
could  induce  him  to  dismount.  In  this  orderly  manner, 
they  scampered  through  the  woods  for  several  miles,  when, 
in  obedience  to  the  orders  of  Kenton  and  Calvin,  they 
halted,  and  prepared  for  resistance  in  case  (as  was  proba- 
ble,) the  enemy  had  discovered  them,  and  were  engaged 
in  the  pursuit.  Kenton  and  Calvin  were  engaged  apart 
in  earnest  consultation.  It  was  proposed  that  a number 
of  saplings  should  be  cut  down  and  a temporary  breast- 
work erected,  and  while  the  propriety  of  these  measures 
was  under  discussion,  the  men  were  left  to  themselves. 

Captain  Ward,  as  we  have  already  observed,  was  then 
very  young,  and  perfectly  raw.  He  had  been  in  the  habit 
tf  looking  up  to  one  man  as  a perfect  Hector,  having  al- 


190 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


ways  heard  him  represented  in  his  own  neighborhood  as  a 
man  of  redoubted  courage,  and  a perfect  Anthropophagus 
among  the  Indians.  When  they  halted,  therefore,  he 
naturally  looked  around  for  his  friend,  hoping  to  read 
safety,  courage  and  assurance  of  success  in  that  counte- 
nance, usually  so  ruddy  and  confident.  But,  alas!  the 
gallant  warrior  was  wofully  chop-fallen.  There  had, 
generally,  been  a ruddy  tinge  upon  the  tip  of  his  nose, 
which  some  ascribed  to  the  effervescence  of  a fiery  valor, 
while  others,  more  maliciously  inclined,  attributed  it  to 
the  fumes  of  brandy.  Even  this  burning  beacon  had 
been  quenched,  and  had  assumed  a livid  ashy  hue,  still 
deeper  if  possible  than  that  of  his  lips.  Captain  Ward 
thinking  that  the  danger  must  be  appalling,  which  could 
damp  the  ardor  of  a man  like  him,  instantly  became 
grievously  frightened  himself,  and  the  contagion  seemed 
spreading  rapidly,  when  Kenton  and  Calvin  rejoined  them, 
and  speaking  in  a cheerful,  confident  tone,  completely  re- 
animated their  spirits. 

Finding  themselves  not  pursued  by  the  enemy,  as  they 
had  expected,  it  was  determined,  that  they  should  remain 
in  their  present  position  until  night,  when  a rapid  attack 
was  to  be  made  in  two  divisions,  upon  the  Indian  camp, 
under  the  impression  that  the  darkness  of  the  night,  and 
the  surprise  of  the  enemy,  might  give  them  an  advantage, 
which  they  could  scarcely  hope  for  in  daylight.  , Accor- 
dingly, every  thing  remaining  quiet  at  dusk,  they  again 
mounted  and  advanced  rapidly,  but  in  profound  silence, 
upon  the  Indian  camp.  It  was  ascertained  that  the  horses 
which  the  enemy  had  stolen  were  grazing  in  a rich  bot- 
tom below  their  camp.  As  thdy  were  advancing  to  the 
attack,  therefore,  Calvin  detached  his  son  with  several 
halters,  which  he  had  borrowed  from  the  men,  to  regain 
their  own  horses,  and  be  prepared  to  carry  them  off  in 
case  the  enemy  should  overpower  them.  The  attack  was 
then  made  in  two  divisions. 

Calvin  conducted  the  upper  and  Kenton  the  lower 
party.  The  wood  was  thick,  but  the  moon  shone  out 
clearly,  and  enabled  them  to  distinguish  objects  with  suffi- 
cient precision.  Calvin’s  party  came  first  in  contact  with 


WARD,  CALVIN,  AND  KENTON. 


191 


the  enemy.  They  had  advanced  within  thirty  .yards  of  a 
large  fire  in  front  of  a number  of  tents,  without  having 
seen  a single  Indian,  when  a dog  which  had  been  watching 
them  for  several  minutes,  sprung  forward  to  meet  them, 
baying  loudly.  Presently  an  Indian  appeared  approaching 
cautiously  towards  them,  and  occasionally  speaking  to  the 
dog  in  the  Indian  tongue.  This  sight  was  too  tempting  to 
be  borne,  and  Calvin  heard  the  tick  of  a dozen  rifles  in 
rapid  succession,  as  his  party  cocked  them  in  order  to  fire. 
The  Indian  was  too  close  to  permit  him  to  speak,  but 
turning  to  his  men  he  earnestly  waved  his  hand  as  a 
warning  to  be  quiet.  Then  cautiously  raising  his  own  rifle, 
he  fired  with  a steady  aim,  just  as  the  Indian  had  reached 
the  fire,  and  stood  fairly  exposed  to  its  light. 

The  report  of  the  rifle  instantly  broke  the  stillness  of 
the  night,  and  their  ears  were  soon  deafened  by  the  yelk 
of  the  enemy.  The  Indian  at  whom  Calvin  had  fired,  feW 
forward  int®  the  burning  pile  of  faggots,  and  by  his  strug- 
gling to  extricate  himself,  scattered  the  brands  so  much, 
as  almost  to  extinguish  the  light.  Several  dusky  forms, 
glanced  rapidly  before  them  for  a moment,  which  drew  a 
volly  from  his  men,  but  with  what  effect  could  not  be  as- 
certained. Calvin,  having  discharged  his  piece,  turned 
so  rapidly  as  to  strike  the  end  of  his  ramrod  against  a 
tree  behind  him,  and  drive  it  into  its  sheath  with  such 
violence,  that  he  was  unable  to  extricate  it  for  several 
minutes,  and  finally  fractured  two  of  his  teeth  in  the 
effort. 

A heavy  fire  now  commenced  from  the  Indian  camp, 
which  was  returned  with  equal  spirit  by  the  whites,  but 
without  much  effect  on  either  side.  Trees  were  barked 
very  plentifully*  dogs  bayed,  the  Indians  yelled,  the  whites 
shouted,  the  squaws  screamed,  and  a prodigious  uproar 
was  maintained  for  about  fifteen  minutes,  when  it  was 
reported  to  Calvin  that  Kenton’s  party  had  been  overpow- 
ered, and  was  in  full  retreat.  It  was  not  necessary  to 
give  orders  for  a similar  movement.  No  sooner  had  the 
intelligence  been  received,  than  the  Kentuckians  of  the 
upper  division,  broke  their  ranks  and  every  man  attempted 
to  save  himself  as  he  best  could.  They  soon  overtook 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


192 

the  lower  division,  and  a hot  scramble  took  place  for  hors- 
es. One  called  upon  another  to  wait  for  him  until  he 
could  catch  his  horse,  which  had  broken  his  bridle,  but  no 
attention  was  paid  to  the  request.  Some  fled  upon  their 
own  horses,  others  mounted  those  of  their  friends.  “First 
come,  first  served,”  seemed  to  be  the  order  of  the  night, 
and  a sad  confusion  of  property  took  place,  in  consequence 
of  which,  to  their  great  terror,  a few  were  compelled  to 
return  on  foot.  The  flight  was  originally  caused  by  the 
panic  of  an  individual.  As  the  lower  division  moved  up 
to  the  attack,  most  of  the  men  appeared  to  advance  with 
alacrity. 

Captain  Ward,  however,  happened  to  be  stationed  next 
to  McIntyre,  whom  we  have  already  had  occasion  to  men- 
tion as  a practised  woodsman  and  peculiarly  expert 
marksman.  Heretofore,  he  had  always  been  foremost  in 
every  danger,  and  had  become  celebrated  for  the  address, 
activity,  and  boldness  with  which  he  had  acquitted  himself 
As  they  were  ascending  the  gentle  acclivity  upon  which 
the  Indian  camp  stood,  however,  he  appeared  much  dejec- 
ted, and  spoke  despondingly  of  their  enterprise.  He  de- 
clared that  it  had  been  revealed  to  him  in  a dream,  on  the 
preceding  night,  that  their  efforts  would  be  vain,  and 
that  he  himself  was  destined  to  perish.  That  he  was  de- 
termined to  fight,  as  long  as  any  man  of  the  party  stood 
his  ground,  but  if  the  whites  were  wise,  they  would  in- 
stantly abandon  the  attempt  upon  the  enemy,  and  recross 
the  Ohio,  as  rapidly  as  possible. 

These  observations  made  but  little  impression  upon 
Ward,  but  seemed  to  take  deep  root  in  the  mind  of  the 
gentleman  whose  pale  face  had  alarmed  the  company  at 
the  breastwork.  The  action  quickly  commenced,  and  at 
the  first  fire  from  the  Indians,  Barre,  a young  Kentuck- 
ian, was  shot  by ’s  side.  This  circumstance  com- 

pleted the  overthrow  of  his  courage,  which  had  declined 
visibly  since  the  first  encounter  in  the  morning,  and  eleva- 
ting his  voice  to  its  shrillest  notes,  he  shouted  aloud,  “Boys! 
it  wont  do  for  us  to  be  here;  Barre  is  killed,  and  the 
Indians  are  crossing  the  creek!”  Bonaparte  has  said,  that 
there  is  a critical  period  in  every  battle,  when  the  bravest 


WARD,  CALVIN  AND  KENTON.  193 

men  will  eagerly  seize  an  excuse  to  run  away.  The  re- 
mark is  doubly  true  with  regard  to  militia. 

No  sooner  had  this  speech  been  uttered  by  one  who 
had  never  yet  been  charged  wifli  cowardice,  than  the  rout 
instantly  took  place,  and  all  order  was  disregarded.  Fortu- 
nately, the  enemy  were  equally  frightened,  and  probably 
would  have  fled  themselves,  had  the  whites  given  them 
time.  No  pursuit  took  place  for  several  hours,  nor  did 
they  then  pursue  the  trail  of  the  main  body  of  fugi 
tives.  But  it  unfortunately  happened  that  McIntyre,  in- 
stead of  accompanying  the  rest,  turned  off  from  the  main 
route,  and  returned  to  the  breastwork  where  some  flour 
and  venison  had  been  left.  The  Indians  quickly  became 
aware  of  the  circumstance,  and  following  with  rapidity, 
overtook,  tomahawked,  and  scalped  him,  while  engaged 
in  preparing  breakfast  on  the  following  morning.  Thus 
was  his  dream  verified.  The  prediction  in  this  case,  as 
in  many  others,  probably  produced  its  own  accomplishment 
by  confounding  his  mind,  and  depriving  him  of  his  ordina- 
ry alertness  and  intelligence.  He  certainly  provoked 
his  fate,  by  his  own  extraordinary  rashness. 

It  is  somewhat  remarkable,  that  a brother  of  Captain 
Ward’s  was  in  the  Indian  camp  at  the  moment  when  it 
was  attacked.  He  had  been  taken  by  the  Indians  in 
1758,  being  at  that  time  only  three  years  old,  had  been 
adopted  as  a member  of  the  Shawnee  tribe,  and  had  mar- 
ried an  Indian  woman  by  whom  he  had  several  children, 
all  of  whom,  together  with  their  mother,  were  then  in 
camp.  Captain  Ward  has  informed  the  writer  of  this  nar- 
rative, that,  a few  seconds  before  the  firing  began,  while 
he  stood  within  rifle  shot  of  the  encampment,  an  Indian 
girl  apparently  fifteen  years  of  age  attracted  his  attention. 
She  stood  for  an  instant  in  an  attitude  of  alarm,  in  front 
of  one  of  the  tents,  and  gazed  intently  upon  the  spot 
where  he  then  stood.  Not  immediately  perceiving  that 
it  wTas  a female,  he  raised  his  gun,  and  was  upon  the 
point  of  firing,  when  her  open  bosom  announced  her  sex, 
and  her  peculiarly  light  complexion  caused  him  to  doubt 
for  a moment  whether  she  could  be  an  Indian  by  birth. 
He  afterwards  ascertained  that  she  was  his  brother’s  child. 


194 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


It  appears  still  more  remarkable,  that  exactly  one  year 
afterwards,  John  Ward,  the  adopted  Indian,  should  have 
been  opposed  to  another  one  of  his  brothers,  Captaih 
James  Ward,  of  Mason,  hi  a night  skirmish  somewhat 
resembling  that  which  we  have  just  detailed.  Captain 
James  Ward,  together  with  Kenton,  Baker  and  about  thirty 
others,  while  engaged  in  pursuit  of  some  stolen  horses, 
fell  upon  a fresh  trail  of  Indians,  that  crossed  the  road 
which  they  were  then  pursuing.  Instantly  abandoning 
their  former  object,  they  followed  the  fresh  trail  with  great 
eagerness,  and  a short  time  after  dark  arrived  at  an  en- 
campment. Having  carefully  reconnoitered  it,  they  de- 
termined to  remain  quiet  until  daylight,  and  then  fall  upon 
the  enemy  as  before,  in  two  divisions,  one  to  be  com- 
manded by  Kenton  and  the  other  by  Baker.  Every  thing 
remained  quiet  until  four  o’clock  in  the  morning,  when 
Baker  moved  at  the  head  of  his  party,  in  order  to  take  the 
appointed  position,  (which  was  very  advantageous,  and  in 
conjunction  with  Kenton’s,  completely  surrounded  the 
enemy)  while  Kenton  remained  stationary,  awaiting  the 
signal  of  attack. 

By  some  mistake,  Baker  moved  in  a false  direction,  and 
to  the  surprise  of  both  parties,  instead  of  enclosing  the 
Indian  camp,  he  fell  directly  upon  it.  A heavy  firing, 
and  the  usual  yelling,  quickly  announced  the  fact  to  Ken- 
ton, who  moved  hastily  up  to  the  assistance  of  his  friends. 
It  was  still  perfectly  dark  and  the  firing  was  of  course  at 
random.  Baker,  in  whose  fiery  character,  courage  pre- 
dominated over  every  thing  else,  lost  all  patience  at  the 
restraint  under  which  they  lay,  and  urged  strenuously, 
that  they  should  rush  upon  the  enemy,  and  decide  the 
affair  at  once  with  the  tomahawk;  but  Kenton,  whom 
repeated  misfortunes  had  rendered  extremely  cautious- 
opposed  it  so  vehemently,  that  it  was  not  done. 

One  of  their  men  had  fallen,  and  they  could  hear  one 
of  the  enemy,  apparently  not  more  than  thirty  yards  from 
them,  groan  deeplyr,  and  occasionally  converse  with  his 
companions  in  the  Indian  tongue.  The  wounded  man  wras 
the  unfortunate  John  Ward,  whose  hard  fate  it  w^as,  to 
fight  against  the  w hites;  in  a battle  in  which  his  own  father 


MAY,  JOHNSTON,  AND  SKYLES. 


m 

was  killed,  to  encounter  two  of  his  brothers  in  the  field, 
and  finally  to  fall  mortally  wounded  in  a night  skirmish, 
when  his  brother  was  opposed  to  him,  and  was  within 
hearing  of  his  groans.  His  father  perished  in  the  long 
battle  at  the  “ Point,”  as  it  was  called,  near  the  mouth  of 
the  Kenawha.  The  whole  force  of  the  Shawnees  was 
assembled  at  that  point,  and  John  Ward  was  then  nineteen 
years  of  age,  so  that  there  can  be  but  little  doubt  of  his 
having  been  present. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Mr.  John  May,  a gentleman  of  Virginia,  had,  at  an  early 
period,  been  appointed  surveyor  of  the  Kentucky  lands, 
and  had  become  so  extensively  involved  in  business,  as  to 
require  the  aid  of  a clerk.  In  1789,  he  employed  Mr. 
Charles  Johnston,  a young  man  scarcely  twenty  years 
of  age,  in  that  capacity.  Johnston  accompanied  his  em- 
ployer to  Kentucky  in  the  summer  of  1789,  and  returned 
to  Virginia  in  the  autumn  of  the  same  year,  without  any 
adventure  worthy  of  notice;  and  in  the  month  of  February, 
1790,  it  became  necessary  for  them  to  return  to  Kentucky, 
in  order  to  complete  the  business,  which  had  been  left  un- 
finished on  the  former  trip.  Heretofore,  they  had  travel- 
led by  land,  but  on  the  present  occasion,  May  determined 
to  descend  the  Great  Kenawha  and  Ohio  by  water.  They, 
accordingly,  travelled  by  the  usual  route  to  Green  Briar 
court  house,  where  the  town  of  Lewisburgh  has  since  been 
built,  and  from  thence  crossed  the  wilderness  which  lay 
between  that  point  and  the  Great  Kenawha. 

After  suffering  much  from  the  weather,  which  was  in- 
tensely cold,  they  at  length  reached  Kelly’s  station  upon 
the  Kenawha,  from  which  point  May  proposed  to  embark. 
Having  purchased  a boat,  such  as  was  then  used  for  the 
navigation  of  the  western  waters,  they  embarked  in  com- 
pany with  Mr.  Jacob  Skyles,  a gentleman  of  Virginia,  who 
had  at  that  time  a stock  of  dry  goods  intended  for  Lexing- 


f 


106 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


ton,  and  without  any  accident,  in  the  course  of  a few  days 
they  arrived  at  Point  Pleasant.  Here  there  was  an  ac- 
cession to  their  number  of  three  persons,  a man  named 
Flinn  and  two  sisters  of  the  name  of  Fleming.  Flinn  was 
a hardy  borderer,  accustomed  from  his  youth  to  all  the 
dangers  of  the  frontiers,  and  the  two  Miss  Flemings  were 
women  of  low  station  and  doubtful  character.  They  were  all 
natives  of  Pittsburgh,  and  were  on  their  way  to  Kentucky. 

During  their  short  stay  at  Point  Pleasant,  they  learned 
that  roving  bands  of  Indians  were  constantly  hovering 
upon  either  bank  of  the  Ohio,  and  were  in  the  habit  of  de- 
coying boats  ashore  under  various  pretences,  and  murder- 
ing or  taking  captives,  all  who  were  on  board;  so  that, 
upon  leaving  Point  Pleasant,  they  determined  that  no  con- 
sideration should  induce  them  to  approach  either  shore, 
but  steeling  their  hearts  against  every  entreaty,  that  they 
would  resolutely  keep  the  middle  of  the  current,  and  leave 
distressed  individuals  to  shift  for  themselves.  How  firmly 
this  resolution  was  maintained  the  sequel  will  show.  The 
spring  freshet  was  in  its  height  at  the  time  of  their  em- 
barkation, and  their  boat  was  wafted  rapidly  down  the 
stream.  There  was  no  occasion  to  use  the  side  oars,  and 
it  was  only  necessary  for  one  individual  at  a time  to  watch 
throughout  the  night,  at  the  steering  oar,  in  order  to  keep 
the  boat  in  the  current.  So  long  as  this  could  be  done, 
they  entertained  no  dread  of  any  number  of  Indians  on 
either  shore,  as  boarding  had  hitherto  formed  no  part  of 
their  plans,  and  was  supposed  to  be  impracticable,  so  long 
as  arms  were  on  board  of  the  boat. 

On  the  morning  of  the  20th  of  March,  when  near  the 
junction  of  the  Scioto,  they  were  awakened  at  daylight  by 
Flinn,  whose  turn  it  was  to  watch,  and  informed  that  dan- 
ger was  at  hand.  All  instantly  sprung  to  their  feet,  and 
hastened  upon  deck  without  removing  their  nightcaps  or 
completing  their  dress.  The  cause  of  Flinn’s  alarm  was 
quickly  evident.  Far  down  the  river  a smoke  was  seen, 
ascending  in  thisk  wreaths  above  the  trees,  and  floating 
in  thinner  masses  over  the  bed  of  the  river.  All  in- 
stantly perceived  that  it  could  only  proceed  from  a 
large  fire;  and  who  was  there  to  kindle  a fire  in  the 


MAY,  JOHNSTON.  AND  SKYLES.  197 

cterness  which  surrounded  them?  No  one  doubted  that 
Indians  were  in  front,  and  the  only  question  to  be  decided 
was,  upon  which  shore  they  lay,  for  the  winding  of  the 
river,  and  their  distance  from  the  smoke,  rendered  it  im- 
possible at  first  to  ascertain  this  point.  As  the  boat  drift- 
ed on,  however,  it  became  evident  that  the  fire  was  upon 
the  Ohio  shore,  and  it  was  instantly  determined  to  put  over 
to  the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  Before  this  could  be 
done,  however,  two  white  men  ran  down  upon  the  beach, 
and  clasping  their  hands  in  the  most  earnest  manner,  im- 
plored the  crew  to  take  them  on  board. 

They  declared  that  they  had  been  taken  by  a party  of 
Indians  in  Kennedy’s  bottom,  a few  days  before;  had 
been  conducted  across  the  Ohio,  and  had  just  effected  their 
escape.  They  added,  that  the  enemy  was  in  close  pur- 
suit of  them,  and  that  their  death  was  certain,  unless  ad- 
mitted on  board.  Resolute  in  their  purpose,  on  no  account 
to  leave  the  middle  of  the  stream,  and  strongly  suspecting 
the  suppliants  of  treachery,  the  party  paid  no  attention  to 
their  entreaties,  but  steadily  pursued  their  course  down 
the  river,  and  were  soon  considerably  ahead  of  them. 
The  two  white  men  ran  down  the  bank,  in  a line  parallel 
with  the  course  of  the  boat,  and  their  entreaties  were 
changed  into  the  most  piercing  cries  and  lamentations 
upon  perceiving  the  obstinacy  with  which  their  request 
was  disregarded. 

Instantly  the  obduracy  of  the  crew  began  to  relax. 
Flinn  and  the  two  females,  accustomed  from  their  youth 
to  undervalue  danger  from  the  Indians,  earnestly  insisted 
upon  going  ashore,  and  relieving  the  white  men,  and  even 
the  incredulity  of  May  began  to  yield  to  the  persevering 
importunity  of  the  suppliants.  A parley  took  place. 
May  called  to  them  from  the  deck  of  the  boat  where  he 
stood  in  his  nightcap  and  . drawers,  and  demanded  the 
cause  of  the  large  fire  the  smoke  of  which  had  caused  so 
much  alarm.  The  white  men  positively  denied  that  there 
was  any  fire  near  them.  This  falsehood  was  so  palpable, 
that  May’s  former  suspicions  returned  with  additional 
force,  and  he  positively  insisted  upon  continuing  their 
course  without  paying  the  slightest  attention  to  the  re- 


198 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


quest  of  the  men.  This  resolution  was  firmly  seconded 
by  Johnston  and  Skyles,  and  as  vehemently  opposed  by 
Flinn  and  the  Miss  Flemings,  for,  contrary  to  all  estab- 
lished rules  of  policy,  the  females  were  allowed  an  equal 
vote  with  the  males  on  board  of  the  boat. 

Flinn  urged  that  the  men  gave  every  evidence  of  real 
distress  which  could  be  required,  and  recounted  too  many 
particular  circumstances  attending  their  capture  and  es- 
cape, to  give  color  to  the  suspicion  that  their  story  was 
invented  for  the  occasion,  and  added,  that  it  would  be  a 
burning  shame  to  them  and  theirs  for  ever,  if  they  should 
permit  two  countrymen  to  fall  a sacrifice  to  the  savages, 
when  so  slight  a risk  on  their  part  would  suffice  to  re- 
lieve them.  He  acknowledged  that  they  had  lied  in  rela- 
tion to  the  fire,  but  declared  himself  satisfied  that  it  was 
only  because  they  were  fearful  of  acknowledging  the 
truth,  lest  the  crew  should  suspect  that  Indians  were  con- 
cealed in  the  vicinity.  The  controversy  became  warm, 
and  during  its  progress,  the  boat  drifted  so  far  below  the 
men,  that  they  appeared  to  relinquish  their  pursuit  in 
despair. 

At  this  time,  Flinn  made  a second  proposal,  which,  ac- 
cording to  his  method  of  reasoning,  could  be  carried  into 
effect,  without  the  slightest  risk  to  any  one  but  himself. 
They  were  now  more  than  a mile  below  the  pursuers. 
He  proposed  that  May  should  only  touch  the  hostile  shore 
long  enough  to  permit  him  to  jump  out.  That  it  was 
impossible  for  Indians,  (even  admitting  that  they  were  at 
hand,)  to  arrive  in  time  to  arrest  the  boat,  and  even  should 
<uiy  appeal*,  they  could  immediately  put  off  from  shore 
and  abandon  him  to  his  fate.  That  he  was  confident  of 
being  able  to  outrun  the  red  devils,  if  they  saw  him  first, 
and  was  equally  confident  of  being  able  to  see  them  as 
soon  as  they  could  see  him.  May  remonstrated  upon  so 
unnecessary  an  exposure;  but  Flinn  was  inflexible,  and 
n an  evil  hour  the  boat  was  directed  to  the  shore. 

They  quickly  discovered,  what  ought  to  have  been 
xnown  before,  that  they  could  not  float  as  swiftly  after 
leaving  the  current  as  while  borne  along  by  it,  and  they 
were  nearly  double  the  time  in  making  the  shore,  that 


199 


MAY,  JOHNSTON  AND  SKYLES. 

they  had  calculated  upon.  When  within  reach  Flinn  leap 
ed  fearlessly  upon  the  hostile  bank,  and  the  boat  grated 
upon  the  sand.  At  that  moment,  five  or  six  savages  ran 
up  out  of  breath,  from  the  adjoining  wood,  and  instantly 
seizing  Flinn,  began  to  fire  upon  the  boat’s  crew.  John- 
ston and  Skyles  sprung  to  their  arms,  in  order  to  return 
the  fire,  while  May,  seizing  an  oar,  attempted  to  regain 
the  current.  Fresh  Indians  arrived,  however,  in  such 
rapid  succession,  that  the  beach  was  quickly  crowded  by 
them,  and  May  called  out  to  his  companions  to  cease 
firing  and  come  to  the  oars.  This  was  instantly  done, 
but  it  was  too  late. 

The  river,  as  we  have  already  observed,  was  very  high, 
and  their  clumsy  and  unwieldy  boat  had  become  entang- 
led in  the  boughs  of  the  trees  which  hung  over  the  water, 
so  that  after  the  most  desperate  efforts  to  get  her  off,  they 
were  compelled  to  relinquish  the  attempt  in  despair. 
During  the  whole  of  this  time  the  Indians  were  pouring  a 
heavy  fire  into  the  boat,  at  a distance  not  exceeding  ten 
paces.  Their  horses,  of  which  they  had  a great  number 
on  board,  had  broken  their  halters,  and  mad  with  terror 
were  plunging  so  furiously  as  to  expose  them  to  a danger 
scarcely  less  dreadful  than  that  which  menaced  them  from 
shore.  In  addition  to  this,  none  of  them  had  ever  beheld 
a hostile  Indian  before,  (with  the  exception  of  May,)  and 
the  furious  gestures  and  appalling  yells  of  the  enemy, 
struck  a terror  to  their  hearts  which  had  almost  deprived 
them  of  their  faculties. 

Seeing  it  impossible  to  extricate  themselves,  they  all 
lay  down  upon  their  faces,  in  such  parts  of  the  boat,  as 
would  best  protect  them  from  the  horses,  and  awaited  in 
passive  helplessness,  the  approach  of  the  conquerors.  The 
enemy,  however,  still  declined  boarding,  and  contented 
themselves  with  pouring  in  an  incessant  fire,  by  which  all 
the  horses  were  killed,  and  which  at  length  began  to 
grow  fatal  to  the  crew.  One  of  the  females  received  a 
ball  in  her  mouth  which  had  passed  immediately  over 
Johnston’s  head,  and  almost  instantly  expired.  Skyles, 
immediately  afterwards,  was  severely  wounded  in  both 
shoulders,  the  ball  striking  the  right  shoulder  blade,  and 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


200 

ranging  transversely  along  his  back.  The  fire  seemed 
to  grow  hotter  every  moment,  when,  at  length  May  aroso 
and  waved  his  nightcap  above  his  head  as  a signal  of  sur- 
render.  He  instantly  received  a ball  in  the  middle  of  the 
forehead  and  fell  perfectly  dead  by  the  side  of  Johnson, 
covering  him  with  his  blood. 

Now,  at  last,  the  enemy  ventured  to  board.  Throwing 
themselves  into  the  water,  with  their  tomahawks  in  their 
hands,  a dozen  or  twenty  swam  to  the  boat,  and  began  to 
climb  the  sides.  Johnston  stood  ready  to  do  the  honors 
of  the  boat,  and  presenting  his  hand  to  each  Indian  in 
succession,  he  helped  them  over  the  side  to  the  number 
of  twenty.  Nothing  could  appear  more  cordial  than  the 
meeting.  Each  Indian  shook  him  by  the  hand,  with  the 
usual  salutation  of  « How  de  do,”  in  passable  English, 
while  Johnston  encountered  every  visitor  with  an  affec- 
tionate squeeze,  and  a forced  smile,  in  which  terror  strug- 
gled with  civility.  The  Indians  then  passed  on  to  Skyles 
and  the  surviving  Miss  Fleming,  where  the  demonstra- 
tions of  mutual  joy  were  not  quite  so  lively.  Skyles  was 
writhing  under  a painful  wound,  and  the  girl  was  sitting 
by  the  dead  body  of  her  sister. 

Having  shaken  hands  with  all  of  their  captives,  the  In- 
dians proceeded  to  scalp  the  dead,  which  was  done  with 
great  coolness,  and  the  reeking  scalps  were  stretched  and 
prepared  upon  hoops  for  the  usual  process  of  drying,  im- 
mediately before  the  eyes  of  the  survivors.  The  boat 
was  then  drawn  ashore,  and  its  contents  examined  with 
great  greediness.  Poor  Skyles,  in  addition  to  the  pain  of 
his  wounds,  was  compelled  to  witness  the  total  destruction 
of  his  property,  by  the  hands  of  these  greedy  spoilers, 
who  tossed  his  silks,  cambric,  and  broadcloth  into  the  dirt, 
with  the  most  reckless  indifference.  At  length  they  stum- 
bled upon  a keg  of  whiskey.  The  prize  was  eagerly 
seized,  and  every  thing  else  abandoned.  The  Indian  who 
had  found  it,  instantly  carried  it  ashore  and  was  followed 
by  the  rest  with  tumultuous  delight.  A large  fire  nearly 
fifty  feet  long  was  quickly  kindled,  and  victors  and 
vanquished  indiscriminately  huddled  around  it. 

As  yet  no  attempt  had  been  made  to  strip  the  prison- 


MAY,  JOHNSTON,  AND  SKYLES. 


201 

ers,  but  unfortunately,  Johnston  was  handsomely  dressed 
in  a broadcloth  surtout,  red  vest,  fine  ruffled  shirt,  and  a 
pair  of  new  boots.  The  Indians  began  to  eye  him  atten- 
tively, and  at  length  one  of  them,  whose  name  he  after- 
wards learned  was  Chickatommo,  a Shawnee  chief,  came 
up  to  him,  and  gave  thp  skirt  of  his  coat  two  or  three  hard 
pulls,  accompanied  by  several  gestures  which  were  not  to 
be  mistaken.  Johnston  instantly  stripped  off  his  coat, 
and  very  politely  handed  it  to  him.  His  red  waistcoat  was 
now  exposed  to  full  view  and  attracted  great  attention. 
Chickatommo  instantly  exclaimed,  “Hugh!  you  big  cap- 
patain !”  Johnston  hastily  assured  him  that  he  was  mista^ 
ken,  that  he  was  no  officer,  nor  had  any  connection  with 
military  affairs  whatever.  The  Indian  then  drew  himself 
up,  pointed  with  his  finger  to  his  breast,  and  exclaimed, 
“ Me  cappatain ! all  dcse,’*’  pointing  to  his  men,  “ my  so- 
gers !”  The  red  waistcoat  accompanied  the  surtout,  and 
Johnston  quickly  stood  shivering  in  his  shirt  and  panta- 
loons. 

An  old  Indian  then  came  up  to  him,  and  placing  one 
hand  upon  his  own  shirt,  (a  greasy,  filthy  garment,  which 
had  not,  probably,  been  washed  for  six  months,)  and  the 
other  upon  Johnston’s  ruffles,  cried  out  in  English,  “ Swap! 
swap!”  at  the  same  time,  giving  the  ruffles  a gentle  pull 
with  his  dirty  fingers.  Johnston,  conquering  his  disgust 
at  the  proposal,  was  about  to  comply,  and  had  drawn  his 
shirt  over  his  head,  when  it  was  violently  pulled  back  by 
another  Indian,  whose  name  he  afterwards  learned,  was 
Tom  Lewis.  His  new  ally  then  reproached  the  other  In- 
dian severely  for  wishing  to  take  the  shirt  from  a prison- 
er’s back  in  such  cold  weather,  and  instantly  afterwards 
threw  his  owii  blanket  over  Johnston’s  shoulders.  The 
action  was  accompanied  by  a look  so  full  of  compassion 
and  kindness,  that  Johnston,  who  had  expected  far  differ- 
ent treatment,  was  perfectly  astonished.  He  now  saw 
that  native  kindness  of  heart  and  generosity  of  feeling, 
was  by  no  means  rare,  even  among  savages. 

The  two  white  men  who  had  decoyed  them  ashore,  and 
whose  names  were  Divine  and  Thomas,  now  appeared, 
and  took  their  seats  by  the  side  of  the  captives.  Sens*- 


202 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


ble  of  the  reproach  to  which  they  had  exposed  themselves, 
they  hastened  to  offer  an  excuse  for  their  conduct.  They 
declared  that  they  really  had  been  taken  in  Kennedy’s 
bottom  a few  days  before,  and  that  the  Indians  had  com- 
pelled them,  by  threats  of  instant  death  in  case  of  refusal, 
to  act  as  they  had  done.  They  concluded  by  some  com- 
mon place  expressions  of  regret  for  the  calamity  which 
they  had  occasioned,  and  declared  that  their  own  misery 
was  aggravated  at  beholding  that  of  t'heir  countrymen! 
In  short,  words  were  cheap  with  them,  and  the)^  showered 
them  out  in  profusion.  But  Johnston  and  Skyles’  suffer- 
ings had  been  and  still  were  too  severe,  to  permit  their  re- 
sentment to  be  appeased  by  such  light  atonement. 

Their  suspicions  of  the  existence  of  wilful  and  malig- 
nant treachery  on  the  part  of  the  white  men,  (at  least  one 
of  them,)  were  confirmed  by  the  report  of  a negro,  who 
quickly  made  his  appearance,  and  who,  as  it  appeared,  had 
been  taken  in  Kentucky  a few  days  before.  He  declared 
that  Thomas  had  been  extremely  averse  to  having  any 
share  in  the  treachery,  but  had  been  overruled  by  Divine, 
who  alone  had  planned,  and  was  most  active  in  the  execu- 
tion of  the  project,  having  received, a promise  from  the 
Indians,  that,  in  case  of  success,  his  own  liberty  should 
be  restored  to  him.  This  report  has  been  amply  con- 
firmed by  subsequent  testimony.  Mr.  Thomas  is  now 
living  near  Maysville,  and  has  always  sustained  an  excel- 
lent reputation. 

In  a few  minutes,  six  squaws,  most  of  them  very  old, 
together  with  two  white  children,  a girl  and  xi  boy,  came 
down  to  the  fire  and  seated  themselves.  The  children 
had  lately  been  taken  from  Kentucky.  Skyles’  wound 
now  became  excessively  painful,  and  Flinn,  who,  in  the 
course  of  his  adventurous  life,  had  picked  up  some  knowl- 
edge of  surgery,  was  permitted  to  examine  it.  He  soon 
found  it  necessary  to  make  an  incision,  which  was  done 
very  neatly  with  a razor.  An  old  squaw  then  washed 
the  wound,  and  having  caught  the  bloody  water  in  a tin 
cup,  presented  it  to  Skyles,  and  requested  him  to  drink  it, 
assuring  him  that  it  would  greatly  accelerate  the  cure^ 
He  thought  it  most  prudent  to  comply. 


JOHNSTON,  FLINN,  AND  SKYLES. 


20$ 


Daring  the  whole  of  this  time,  the  Indians  remained 
silently  smoking  or  lounging  around  the  fire.  No  senti- 
nels were  posted  in  order  to  prevent  a surprise,  but  each 
man’s  gun  stood  immediately  behind  him,  with  the  breech 
resting  upon  the  ground,  and  the  barrel  supported  against 
a small  pole,  placed  horizontally  upon  two  forks.  Upon 
the  slightest  alarm,  every  man  could  have  laid  his  hand 
upon  his  own  gun.  Their  captors  were  composed  of  small 
detachments  from  several  tribes.  Much  the  greater  por- 
tion belonged  to  the  Shawriees,  but  there  were  several 
Delawares,  Wyandotts,  and  a few  wandering.  Cherokees. 
After  smoking,  they  proceeded  to  the  division  of  their 
prisoners.  Fiinn  was  given  to  a Shawnee  warrior;  Skylee 
to  an  old  crabbed,  ferocious  Indian  of  the  same  tribe, 
whose  temper  was  sufficiently  expressed  in  his  counte- 
nance; while  Johnston  was  assigned  to  a young  Shawnee 
chief,  whom  he  represents  as  possessed  of  a disposition  which 
would  have  done  him  honor  in  any  age  or  in  any  nation. 

His  name  was  Messhawa,  and  he  had  just  reached  the 
age  of  manhood  His  person  was  tall  and  expressive 
rather  of  action  than  strength;  his  air  was  noble,  and  his 
countenance  mild,  open,  and  peculiarly  prepossessing.  He 
evidently  possessed  great  influence  among  those  of  his  own 
tribe,  which  as  the  sequel  will  show,  he  exerted  with  great 
activity  on  the  side  of  humanity.  The  surviving  Miss 
Fleming  was  given  to  the  Cherokees,  while  the  Wyan- 
dotts and  the  Delawares  were  allowed  no  share  in  the  dis- 
tribution. No  dissatisfaction,  however,  was  expressed. 
The  division  had  been  proclaimed  by  an  old  chief  in  a loud 
voice,  and  a brief  guttural  monosyllable  announced  their 
concurrence.  After  the  distribution  of  their  captives, 
Fiinn,  Divine,  and  Thomas,  were  ordered  to  prepare  four 
additional  oars,  for  the  boat  which  they  had  taken,  as  they 
had  determined  to  man  it,  and  assail  such  other  boats  as 
should  be  encountered  during  their  stay  on  the  Ohio. 
These  and  several  other  preparations  occupied  the  rest  of 
the  day. 

On  the  next  morning,  the  Indians  arose  early  and  pre- 
pared for  an  encounter,  expecting,  as  usual,  that  boats 
would  be  passing  They  dressed  their  scalp  tufts,  and 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


204 

painted  their  faces  in  the  most  approved  manner,  before  a 
pocket  glass  which  each  carried  with  him,  grimacing  and 
frowning  in  order  to  drill  their  features  to  the  expression 
of  the  most  terrific  passions.  About  ten  o’clock,  a canoe, 
containing  six  men,  was  seen,  slowly  and  laboriously  as- 
cending the  river  on  the  Kentucky  shore.  All  the  prison- 
ers were  instantly  ordered  to  descend  the  bank  to  the  wa- 
ter’s edge  and  decoy  the  canoe  within  reach  of  the  Indian 
guns.  Johnston,  with  whatever  reluctance,  was  compelled 
to  accompany  the  rest.  Divine  on  this,  as  on  the  former 
occasion,  was  peculiarly  active  and  ingenious  in  strata- 
gems. He  invented  a lamentable  story  of  their  canoe 
having  been  overset  and  of  their  starving  condition,  desti- 
tute as  they  were  of  either  guns  or  axes. 

It  was  with  agony  that  Johnston  beheld  the  canoe  put 
off  from  the  Kentifcky  shore,  and  move  rapidly  towards 
them,  struggling  with  the  powerful  current,  which  bore 
them  so  far  below  them  that  they  could  not  distinguish  the 
repeated  signs  which  Johnston  made,  warning  them  to 
keep  off.  The  Indians,  perceiving  how  far  the  canoe  was 
driven  below  them,  ran  rapidly  down  the  river,  under  cover 
of  the  woods,  and  concealed  themselves  among  the  willows, 
which  grew  in  thick  clusters  upon  the  bank.  The  un 
suspecting  canoe-men  soon  drew  near,  and  when  within 
sixty  yards,  received  a heavy  fire,  which  killed  every  man 
on  board.  Some  fell  into  the  river,  and  overset  the  ca- 
noe, which  drifted  rapidly  down  the  current,  as  did  the 
bodies  of  the  slain.  The  Indians  sprung  into  the  water, 
and  dragging  them  ashore,  tomahawked  two  of  them,  who 
gave  some  signs  of  life,  and  scalped  the  whole. 

Scarcely  had  this  been  done,  when  a more  splendid 
booty  appeared  in  view.  It  happened  that  Captain  Tho- 
mas Marshall,  of  the  Virginia  artillery,  in  company  with 
several  other  gentlemen,  was  descending  the  Ohio,  hav 
ing  embarked  only  one  day  later  than  May.  They  had 
three  boats,  weakly  manned,  but  heavily  laden  with  horses 
and  dry  goods,  intended  for  Lexington.  About  twelve 
o’clock  on  the  second  day  of  Johnston’s  captivity,  the  little 
flotilla  appeared  about  a mile  above  the  point  where  the 
Indians  stood.  Instantly  all  was  bustle  and  activity.  Tbe 


JOHNSTON,  FLINN,  AND  SKYLES. 


205 


additional  oars  were  fixed  to  the  boat,  the  savages  instant- 
ly sprung  on  board,  and  the  prisoners  were  compelled  to 
station  themselves  at  the  oars,  and  were  threatened  with 
instant  death  unless  they  used  their  utmost  exertions  to 
bring  them  along  side  of  the  enemy.  The  three  boats 
came  down  very  rapidly,  and  were  soon  immediately  op- 
posite their  enemy’s.  The  Indians  opened  a heavy  fire 
upon  them,  and  stimulated  their  rowers  to  their  utmost 
efforts. 

The  boats  became  quickly  aware  of  their  danger,  and 
a warm  contest  of  skill  and  strength  took  place.  There 
was  an  interval  of  one  hundred  yards  between  each  of 
the  three  boats  in  view.  The  hindmost  was  for  a time 
in  great  danger.  Having  but  one  pair  of  oars,  and  being 
weakly  manned,  she  was  unable  to  compete  with  the  In- 
dian boat,  which  greatly  outnumbered  her  both  in  oars 
and  men.  The  Indians  quickly  came  within  rifle  shot, 
and  swept  the  deck  with  an  incessant  fire,  which  rendered 
it  extremely  dangerous  for  any  of  the  crew  to  shew  them- 
selves. Captain  Marshall  was  on  board  of  the  hindmost 
boat,  and  maintained  his  position  at  the  steering  oar  in 
defiance  of  the  shower  of  balls  which  flew  around  him. 
He  stood  in  his  shirt  sleeves  with  a red  silk  handkerchief 
bound  around  his  head,  which  afforded  a fair  mark  to  the 
enemy,  and  steered  the  boat  with  equal  steadiness  and 
skill,  while  the  crew  below  relieved  each  other  at  the  oars. 

The  enemy  lost  ground  from  two  circumstances.  In 
their  eagerness  to  overtake  the  whites,  they  left  the  cur- 
rent, and  attempted  to  cut  across  the  river  from  point  to 
point,  in  order  to  shorten  the  distance.  In  doing  so,  how- 
ever, they  lost  the  force  of  the  current,  and  quickly  found 
themselves  dropping  astern.  In  addition  to  this,  the 
whites  conducted  themselves  with  equal  coolness  and  dex- 
terity. The  second  boat  waited  for  the  hindmost,  and  re- 
ceived her  crew  on  board,  abandoning  the  goods  and  hor- 
ses, without  scruple,  to  the  enemy.  Being  now  more 
strongly  manned,  she  shot  rapidly  ahead,  and  quickly  ov- 
ertook the  foremost  boat,  which,  in  like  manner,  received 
her  crew  on  board,  abandoning  the  cargo  as  before,  and 
having  six  pair  of  oars,  and  being  powerfully  manned,  she 


206 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


was  soon  beyond  the  reach  of  the  enemy’s  shot.  The 
chase  lasted  more  than  an  hour.  For  the  first  half  hour, 
the  fate  of  the  foremost  boat  hung  in  mournful  suspense, 
and  Johnston,  with  agony,  looked  forward  to  the  probabil- 
ity of  its  capture.  The  prisoners  were  compelled  to  labor 
hard  at  the  oars,  but  they  took  care  never  to  pull  together, 
and  by  every  means  in  their  power,  endeavored  to  favor 
the  escape  of  their  friends. 

At  length,  the  Indians  abandoned  the  pursuit,  and  turn- 
ed their  whole  attention  to  the  boats  which  had  been 
deserted.  The  booty  surpassed  their  most  sanguine  ex- 
pectations. Several  fine  horses  were  on  board,  and  flour, 
sugar,  and  chocolate  in  profusion.  Another  keg  of  whis- 
ky was  found,  and  excited  the  same  immoderate  joy  as  at 
first.  It  was  unanimously  determined  to  regale  them- 
selves in  a regular  feast,  and  instant  preparations  were 
made  to  carry  their  resolution  into  effect.  A^  large  kettle 
of  chocolate  and  sugar,  of  which  the  sugar  formed  the 
greater  part,  was  set  upon  the  fire,  which  an  old  squaw 
stirred  with  a dirty  stick.  Johnston  was  promoted  on  the 
spot  to  the  rank  of  cook,  and  received  orders  to  bake  a 
number  of  flour  cakes  in  the  fire.  A deer  skin,  which  had 
served  for  a saddle  blanket,  and  was  most  disgustingly 
stained  by  having  been  applied  to  a horse’s  sore  back, 
was  given  him  as  a tray,  and  being  repeatedly  ordered  U 
66  make  haste,”  he  entered  upon  his  new  office  with  great 
zeal. 

By  mixing  a large  portion  of  sugar  with  some  dump- 
lings, which  he  boiled  in  chocolate,  he  so  delighted  the 
palates  of  the  Indians,  that  they  were  enthusiastic  in  their 
praises,  and  announced  their  intention  of  keeping  him  in 
his  present  capacity  as  long  as  he  remained  with  them. 
The  two  kegs,  which  had  been  carefully  guarded,  were 
now  produced,  and  the  mirth  began  to  border  on  the  “ fast 
and  furious.”  A select  band,  as  usual,  remained  sober, 
to  maintain  order  and  guard  against  surprise,  but  the  prison 
ers  were  invited  to  get  drunk  with  their  red  brother* 
Johnston  and  Skyles  declined  the  invitation,  but  Flinn,  with 
out  waiting  to  be  asked  twice,  instantly  joined  the  revellers, 
and  quickly  became  as  drunk  as  any  of  them.  In  tbit 


JOHNSTON,  FLINN,  AND  SKYLFS.  207 

situation  he  entered  into  a hot  dispute  with  an  Indian, 
which, after  much  abuse  on  both  sides,  terminated  in  blows, 
and  his  antagonist  received  a sad  battering.  Several  of 
his  tribe  drew  their  knives,  and  rushed  upon  Fiinn  with 
terry*  but  were  restrained  amid  peals  of  laughter  by  the 
others,  who  declared  that  Fiinn  had  proved  himself  a roan, 
and  should  have  fair  play. 

In  the  mean  time,  Johnston  and  Skyles  had  been  bound 
and  removed  to  a convenient  distance  from  the  drinking 
party,  with  the  double  design  of  saving  their  lives,  and 
guarding  against  escape.  While  lying  in  this  manner, 
and  totally  unable  to  help  themselves,  they  beheld  with 
terror,  one  of  the  revellers  staggering  towards  them,  with 
a drawn  knife  in  his  hand,  and  muttering  a profusion  of 
drunken  curses.  He  stopped  within  a few  paces  of  them, 
and  harangued  them  with  great  vehemence,  for  nearly  a 
minute,  until  he  had  worked  himself  up  to  a state  of  in- 
sane fury,  when  suddenly  uttering  a startling  yell,  he 
sprung  upon  the  prostrate  body  of  Skyles  and  seizing  him 
by  the  hair  endeavored  to  scalp  him.  Fortunately  he  was 
too  much  intoxicated  to  exert  his  msual  dexterity,  and  be- 
fore he  had  succeeded  in  his  design,  the  guard  ran  up  at 
lull  speed,  and  seizing  him  by  the  shoulders,  hurled  him 
violently  backwards  to  the  distance  of  several  yards.  The 
drunken  beast  rolled  upon  the  ground,  and  with  difficulty 
recovering  his  feet,  staggered  off,  muttering  curses  against 
the  white  man,  the  guard,  himself,  and  the  whole  world. 
Skyles  had  only  felt  the  point  of  the  knife,  but  had  given 
ap  his  scalp  for  lost,  and  rubbed  the  crowrn  of  his  head 
several  times  with  feverish  apprehensions,  before  he  could 
be  satisfied  that  his  scalp  was  still  safe. 

No  other  incident  occurred  during  the  night,  and  on 
ffie  following  morning  the  Indians  separated.  Those  to 
whom  Fiinn  belonged,  remained  at  the  river  in  expecta- 
tion of  intercepting  other  boats,  while  Johnston’s  party 
struck  through  the  wilderness,  in  a steady  direction  fbr 
their  towns.  During  their  first  day’s  march,  he  afforded 
much  amusement  to  his  captors.  In  the  boat  abandoned 
by  Captain  Marshall,  they  had  found  a milch  cow,  halter- 
ed in  the  usual  manner.  Upon  leaving  the  river,  they 


208 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


committed  her  to  the  care  of  Johnston,  requiring  him  to 
lead  her  by  the  halter.  Being  totally  unaccustomed  to 
this  method  of  travelling,  she  proved  very  refractory  and 
perplexed  him  exceedingly.  When  he  took  one  side  of  a 
tree,  she  regularly  chose  the  other.  Whenever  he  at- 
tempted to  lead  her,  she  planted  her  feet  firmly  before 
her,  and  refused  to  move  a step.  When  he  strove  to 
drive  her,  she  ran  off  into  the  bushes,  dragging  him  a^Ler 
her,  to  the  no  small  injury  of  his  person  and  dress. 

The  Indians  were  in  a roar  of  laughter  throughout  the 
whole  day,  and  appeared  highly  to  enjoy  his  perplexity. 
At  night  they  arrived  at  a small  encampment,  where  they 
had  left  their  women  and  children.  Here,  to  his  great 
joy,  Johnston  was  relieved  of  his  charge,  and  saw  her 
slaughtered  with  the  utmost  gratification.  At  night,  he 
suffered  severely  by  the  absence  of  the  benevolent  Mess- 
nawa,  to  whose  charge,  as  we  have  already  said,  he  had 
been  committed.  The  Indians  were  apprehensive  of  pur- 
suit, and  directed  Messhawa,  at  the  head  of  several  war- 
riors, to  bring  up  the  rear,  and  give  them  seasonable 
warning  of  any  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  whites  to  re- 
gain their  prisoners.  In  his  absence,  he  had  been  com- 
mitted to  an  Indian  of  very  different  character. 

While  his  new  master  was  engaged  in  tying  his  hands, 
as  usual,  for  the  night,  he  ventured  to  complain  that  the 
cord  was  drawn  too  tight,  and  gave  him  unnecessary  pain. 
The  Indian  flew  into  a passion,  exclaimed,  “D — n you 
soul!”  and  drew  the  cord  with  all  the  violence  of  which 
he  was  capable,  until  it  was  completely  buried  in  the 
flesh.  Johnston,  in  consequence,  did  not  sleep  for  a mo- 
ment, but  passed  the  whole  night  in  exquisite  torture.  In 
the  morning  Messhawa  came  up,  and  finding  his  prisoner 
in  a high  fever,  and  his  hands  excessively  swollen,  instant- 
ly cut  the  cords,  and  exchanged  some  high  words  with  the 
other  Indian  upon  the  subject. 

The  march  was  recommenced,  and  Johnston  could  not 
avoid  congratulating  himself  every  moment,  upon  his  good 
fortune  in  having  Messhawa  for  his  guide.  Skyles’  mas- 
ter seemed  to  take  pleasure  in  tormenting  him.  In  addi- 
tion to  an  enormous  quantity  of  baggage,  he  compelled 


JOHNSTON,  FLINN,  AND  SKYLES.  209 

him  to  carry  his  rifle,  by  which  his  raw  wound  was  per- 
petually irritated  and  prevented  from  healing.  Messha- 
wa  permitted  Johnston  to  share  his  own  mess  upon  all 
occasions;  while  the  savage  to  whom  Skyles  belonged, 
would  scarcely  permit  him  to  eat  a dozen  mouthfuls  a 
day,  and  never  without  imbittering  his  meat  with  curses 
and  blows.  In  a few  days  they  arrived  at  the  Scioto  riv- 
er, which,  from  the  recent  rains,  was  too  high  to  admit  of 
being  forded.  The  Indians  were  instantly  employed  in 
constructing  a raft,  and  it  was  necessary  to  carry  one  very 
large  log,  several  hundred  yards. 

Two  Indians  with  a handspike  supported  the  lighter 
end,  while  the  butt  was  very  charitably  bestowed  upon 
Johnston  alone.  Not  daring  to  murmur,  he  exerted  his 
utmost  strength,  and  aided  by  several  Indians,  with  some 
difficulty,  succeeded  in  placing  the  enormous  burden  upon 
his  shoulder.  He  quickly  found,  however,  that  the  weight 
was  beyond  his  strength,  and  wishing  to  give  his  two  com- 
panions in  front  warning  of  his  inability  to  support  it,  he 
called  to  them  in  English  to  u take  care !”  They  did  not 
understand  him,  however,  and  continued  to  support  it, 
when  finding  himself  in  danger  of  being  crushed  to  death, 
he  dropped  the  log  so  suddenly  that  both  Indians  were 
knocked  down,  and  lay  for  a time  without  sense  or  motion. 
They  soon  sprung  up,  however,  and  drawing  their  toma- 
hawks, would  instantly  have  relieved  Johnston  of  all  his 
troubles,  had  not  the  other  Indians,  amid  peals  of  laughter, 
restrained  them,  and  compelled  them  to  vent  their  spleen 
in  curses,  which  were  showered  upon  “Ketepels,”  as  he 
was  called,  for  the  space  of  an  hour  with  great  fury. 

After  crossing  the  Scioto,  the  Indians  displayed  a dispo- 
sition to  loiter  and  throw  away  time,  but  little  m unison 
with  Johnston’s  feelings,  who  was  anxious  to  reach  their 
towns  as  speedily  as  possible,  flattering  himself  with  the 
hope  that  some  benevolent  trader  would  purchase  him  of 
the  Indians  and  restore  him  to  liberty.  They  amused 
themselves  at  a game  called  “ Nosey,”  with  a pack  of 
cards  which  had  been  found  in  one  of  the  abandoned  boats. 
The  pack  is  equally  divided  between  two  of  them,  and  by 
some  process  which  Johnston  did  not  understand,  each  en- 


210 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


deavored  to  get  all  the  cards  into  his  own  possession.  The 
winner  had  a right  to  ten  fillips  at  his  adversary’s  nose, 
which  the  latter  was  required  to  sustain  with  inflexible 
gravity,  as  the  winner  was  entitled  to  ten  additional  fillips 
for  every  smile  which  he  succeeded  in  forcing  from  him. 
At  this  game  they  would  be  engaged  for  a whole  day, 
with  the  keenest  interest,  the  bystanders  looking  on  with 
a delight  scarcely  inferior  to  that  of  the  gamblers  them- 
selves, and  laughing  immoderately  when  the  penalty  was 
exacted. 

When  gaming,  they  were  unusually  kind  to  their  prison- 
ers, but  this  ray  of  sunshine  was  frequently  very  suddenly 
overcast.  Johnston  ventured  to  ask  an  old  Shawnee  chief, 
how  far  they  would  be  forced  to  travel,  before  reaching 
his  village.  The  old  man  very  good  naturedly  assured 
him,  by  drawing  a diagram  upon  the  sand  with  a stick, 
pointing  out  the  situation  of  the  Ohio  river,  of  the  Scioto, 
and  of  the  various  Indian  villages,  and  pointing  to  the  sun, 
he  waved  his  hand  once  for  every  day,  which  they  would 
employ  in  the  journey.  Johnston  then  ventured  to  ask 
“how  many  inhabitants  his  village  contained?”  The  old 
man  replied,  that  the  Shawnees  had  once  been  a great 
nation,  but  (and  here  his  eyes  flashed  fire,  and  he  worked 
himself  into  a furious  passion,)  the  long  knives  had  killed 
nearly  the  whole  of  his  nation.  “However,”  continued 
he,  “so  long  as  there  is  a Shawnee  alive,  we  will fight! 
fight!  fight!  When  no  Shawnee — then  no  fight.” 

The  prisoners  were  also  in  great  danger  whenever  the 
Indians  passed  through  a forest  which  had  been  surveyed, 
and  where  the  marks  of  the  axe  upon  the  trees  were  evi- 
dent. They  would  halt  upon  coming  to  such  a tree,  and 
after  a few  minutes  silence,  would  utter  the  most  terrible 
yells,  striking  the  trees  with  their  hatchets,  and  cursing 
the  prisoners  with  a fierceness  which  caused  them  often 
to  abandon  all  hopes  of  life.  On  one  occasion  they  passed 
suddenly  from  the  most  ferocious  state  of  excitement,  to 
the  opposite  extreme  of  merriment,  at  a slight  disaster 
which  befell  Johnston.  They  were  often  compelled  to 
ford  creeks,  but  upon  one  occasion,  they  attempted  to  pas* 
upon  a log.  The  morning  was  bitterly  cold  and  frosty, 


JOHNSTON,  FLINN,  AND  SKYLES.  JH 

and  the  log  having  been  barked,  was  consequently  very 
slippery. 

In  passing  upon  this  bridge,  Johnston’s  foot  slipped,  and 
he  fell  into  the  cold  water,  with  an  outcry  so  sudden  and 
shrill  that  the  whole  party,  which  the  instant  before  had 
been  inflamed  with  rage,  burst  at  once  into  loud  laughter, 
which,  at  intervals,  was  maintained  for  several  miles. 
Sometimes  they  amused  themselves  by  compelling  their 
prisoners  to  dance,  causing  them  to  pronounce  in  a tone 
bordering  on  music,  the  words  “ Kom-ne-kah ! He-kah-kah! 
Was-sat-oo — Hos-ses-kah!”  and  this  monotonous  and  fa- 
tiguing exercise,  was  occasionally  relieved  by  the  more 
exciting  one,  of  springing  over  a large  fire,  when  the 
blaze  was  at  its  highest,  in  which  they  could  only  escape 
injury  by  great  activity. 

Their  painful  journey  had  now  lasted  nearly  a month, 
and  the  Indian  towns  were  yet  at  a great  distance.  Hith- 
erto, Skyles  and  Johnston  had  remained  together,  but  by 
the  whimsical  fancy  of  their  captors,  they  were  now  sep- 
arated. Skyles  was  borne  off  to  the  Miami  towns,  while 
Johnston  was  destined  for  Sandusky.  A few  days  after 
this  separation,  Johnston’s  party  fell  in  with  a Wyandott 
and  a negro  man,  who,  having  run  away  from  Kentucky, 
fead  been  taken  up  by  the  Wyandott,  and  retained  as  an 
assistant  in  a very  lucrative  trade,  which  he  was  at  that 
time  carrying  on  with  the  Indians  of  the  interior.  He 
was  in  the  habit  of  purchasing  whisky,  powder,  blankets, 
&c.,  at  Detroit,  generally  upon  credit,  packing  them  upon 
horses  into  the  interior,  and  exchanging  them  at  a profit 
of  nearly  one  thousand  per  cent,  for  furs  and  hides.  This 
casual  rencounter  in  the  wilderness,  was  followed  by  great 
demonstrations  of  joy  on  both  sides.  The  trader  produced 
his  rum,  the  Shawnees  their  merchandise,  and  a very 
brisk  exchange  ensued. 

Johnston’s  boots,  for  which  he  had  paid  eight  dollars  in 
Virginia,  were  gladly  given  for  a pint  of  rum,  and  other 
articles  were  sold  at  a proportionate  price.  Johnston,  as 
before,  was  removed  from  the  immediate  neighborhood  of 
the  revellers,  and  committed  to  the  care  of  two  sober  In- 
dians, with  strict  injunctions  to  prevent  his  escape.  They, 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


212 

accordingly,  bound  him  securely,  and  passing  the  ends  of 
the  cord  under  their  own  bodies,  lay  down  to  sleep,  one 
upon  each  side  of  their  prisoner.  At  midnight,  Johnston 
was  awakened  by  a heavy  rain,  although  his  guards  slept 
on  with  most  enviable  composure.  Unable  to  extricate 
himself,  and  fearful  of  awakening  them,  he  was  endeav- 
oring to  submit  with  patience,  when  the  negro  appeared, 
and  very  courteously  invited  him  to  take  shelter  in  his 
tent,  which  stood  within  fifty  yards  of  the  spot  where  he 
lay. 

Johnston  was  beginning  to  explain  to  his  black  friend 
the  impossibility  of  moving  without  the  consent  of  his 
guards,  when  they  suddenly  sprung  to  their  feet,  and 
seizing  the  negro  by  the  throat,  and  at  the  same  time 
grasping  Johnston’s  collar,  they  uttered  the  alarm  halloo  in 
the  most  piercing  tones.  The  whole  band  of  drunken 
Indians  instantly  repeated  the  cry,  and  ran  up,  tomahawk 
in  hand,  and  with  the  most  ferocious  gestures.  Johnston 
gave  himself  up  for  lost,  and  the  negro  looked  white  with 
terror,  but  their  enemies  conducted  themselves  with  more 
discretion,  than,  from  their  drunken  condition,  could  have 
been  anticipated.  They  seized  Johnston,  bore  him  off  a 
few  paces  into  the  woods,  and  questioned  him  closely  as 
to  the  conference  between  himself  and  the  negro.  He 
replied  by  simply  and  clearly  stating  the  truth.  They 
then  grappled  the  negro,  and  menacing  him  with  their 
knives,  threatened  to  take  his  scalp  on  the  spot,  if  he 
did  not  tell  the  truth.  His  story  agreed  exactly  with 
Johnston’s,  and  the  Indians  became  satisfied  that  no  plot 
had  been  concerted. 

The  incident,  however,  had  completely  sobered  them, 
and  for  several  hours  the  rum  cask  gave  way  to  the  danc- 
ing ring,  which  was  formed  in  front  of  the  negro’s  tent, 
where  Johnston  had  been  permitted,  after  the  alarm  sub- 
sided, to  take  shelter  from  the  rain.  He  quickly  fell 
asleep,  but  was  grievously  tormented  by  the  nightmare. 
He  dreamed  that  he  was  drowning  in  the  middle  of  the 
creek  which  he  had  crossed  on  that  morning,  and  his  res- 
piration became  so  laborious  and  painful,  that  he  at  length 
awoke.  The  song  and  the  dance  were  still  geing  c m 


JOHNSTON,  FLINN,  AND  SKYLES.  21S 

around  him,  and  the  cause  of  his  unpleasant  dream  was 
made  manifest.  A huge  Indian  had  very  composedly 
seated  himself  upon  his  breast,  and  was  smoking  a long 
pipe,  and  contemplating  the  dancers,  apparently  very  well 
satisfied  with  his  seat.  Johnston  turned  himself  upon  his 
side,  and  threw  the  Indian  off.  He  did  not  appear  to  rel- 
ish the  change  of  place  much,  but  soon  settled  himself 
and  continued  to  smoke  with  uninterrupted  gravity. 

At  daylight,  a new  scene  presented  itself.  The  war- 
riors painted  themselves  in  the  most  frightful  colors,  and 
performed  a war  dance,  with  the  usual  accompaniments. 
A stake,  painted  in  alternate  stripes  of  black  and  ver- 
milion, was  fixed  in  the  ground,  and  the  dancers  moved 
in  rapid  but  measured  evolutions  around  it.  They  re- 
counted, with  great  energy,  the  wrongs  which  they  had 
received  from  the  whites.  Their  lands  had  been  taken 
from  them,  their  corn  cut  up,  their  villages  burnt,  their 
friends  slaughtered;  every  injury  which  they  had  received 
was  dwelt  upon,  until  their  passions  had  become  inflamed 
beyond  all  control.  Suddenly,  Chickatommo  darted  from 
the  circle  of  dancers,  and  with  eyes  flashing  fire,  ran  up 
to  the  spot  where  Johnston  was  sitting,  calmly  contempla- 
ting  the  spectacle  before  him.  When  within  reach  he 
struck  him  a furious  blow  with  his  fist,  and  was  preparing 
to  repeat  it,  when  Johnston  seized  him  by  the  arms,  and 
hastily  demanded  the  cause  of  such  unprovoked  vio- 
lence. 

Chickatommo,  grinding  his  teeth  with  rage,  shouted 
aSit  down!  sit  down!”  Johnston  obeyed,  and  the  Indian, 
perceiving  the  two  white  children  within  ten  steps  of  him, 
snatched  up  a tomahawk,  and  advanced  upon  them  with  a 
quick  step  and  a determined  look.  The  terrified  little  crea- 
tures instantly  arose  from  the  log  on  which  they  were 
sitting,  and  fled  into  the  woods,  uttering  the  most  piercing 
•creams,  while  their  pursuer  rapidly  gained  upon  them  with 
his  tomahawk  uplifted.  The  girl,  being  the  youngest, 
was  soon  overtaken,  and  would  instantly  have  been  toma- 
hawked, had  not  Messhawa  bounded  like  a deer  to  her 
relief.  He  arrived  barely  in  time  to  arrest  the  uplifted 
tomahawk  of  Chickatommo,  after  which,  he  seized  him  by 


214 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


the  collar  and  hurled  him  violently  backward,  to  the  dis- 
tance of  several  paces. 

Snatching  up  the  child  in  his  arms,  he  then  ran  after  thg 
brother,  intending  to  secure  him  likewise  from  the  fury 
of  his  companion,  but  the  boy,  misconstruing  his  intention, 
continued  his  flight  with  such  rapidity,  and  doubled  several 
times  with  such  address,  that  the  chase  was  prolonged  to 
the  distance  of  several  hundred  yards.  At  length  Mes- 
ghawa  succeeded  in  taking  him.  The  boy,  thinking  him- 
gelf  lost,  uttered  a wild  cry,  which  was  echoed  by  his 
sister,  but  both  were  instantly  calmed.  Messhawa  took 
them  in  his  arms,  spoke  to  them  kindly,  and  socn  convin- 
ced them  that  they  had  nothing  to  fear  from  him.  He 
quickly  reappeared,  leading  them  gently  by  the  hand,  and 
soothing  them  in  the  Indian  language,  until  they  both 
clung  to  him  closely  for  protection.  No  other  incident 
disturbed  the  progress  of  the  ceremonies,  nor  did  Chicka- 
tommo  appear  to  resent  the  violent  interference  of  Mes- 
ghawa. 

Their  rum  had  not  yet  become  exhausted,  and  after  thg 
conclusion  of  the  war  dance,  they  returned  to  it  with  re- 
newed vigor.  A lame  Mingo,  on  a solitary  hunting 
excursion,  soon  joined  them,  and  with  drunken  hospitality, 
was  pressed,  and  in, some  degree  compelled,  to  get  drunk 
with  them.  They  soon  became  very  affectionate,  and  the 
Mingo,  taking  advantage  of  the  momentary  generosity 
produced  by  the  rum,  ventured  to  ask  that  Johnston  might 
be  given  to  him,  for  a particular  purpose,  which  he  ex- 
plained to  them.  He  said  that  he  had  lately  killed  a 
warrior  of  the  Wyandott  tribe,  whose  widow  had  clamor- 
ously demanded  that  he  (the  Mingo)  should  either  procure 
her  another  husband,  or  lay  down  his  own  life,  as  a penp- 
al ty  for  the  slain  Wyandott. 

He  added  that  he  was  too  poor  to  procure  her  another 
husband,  unless  he  should  take  that  honorable  office  upon 
himself,  for  which  he  had  but  small  inclination,  the  squaw 
in  question  being  well  stricken  in  years,  tolerably  crooked, 
and  withal  a most  terrible  scold,  and  that  he  must  submit 
to  the  other  alternative,  and  lay  down  his  life,  unless  the 
Shawnees  would  have  compassion  upon  him,  and  give  him 


: , 


ME8SHAWA  ARRESTING  THE  UPLIFTED  TOMAHAWK  OF  CHICKATOMMO. 


JOHNSTON,  FLINN,  AND  SKYLES.  ' %\*j 

Johnston,  who,  (he  said,)  being  young  and  handsome, 
would  doubtless  be  acceptable  to  the  squaw  aforesaid,  and 
console  her  faithful  heart  for  the  loss  of  her  former  hus- 
band. He  urged  his  suit  with  so  much  earnestness,  that 
the  Shawnees  relented,  and  assured  him  that  Johnston 
should  instantly  be  delivered  into  his  hands.  This  was 
accordingly  done,  without  the  slightest  regard  to  the  pris- 
oner’s inclination,  and  within  an  hour,  the  whole  party 
took  leave  of  him,  shaking  him  heartily  by  the  hand,  and 
congratulating  him  upon  his  approaching  happiness,  telling 
him  that  there  was  a fine  squaw  awaiting  for  him  in  the 
Wyandott  town. 

Johnston  would  have  liked  the  adoption  better  without 
the  appendage  of  the  bride,  but  thinking  that  if  she  were 
one  of  the  furies,  her  society  would  be  preferable  to  the 
stake  and  hot  irons,  he  determined  to  make  the  best  of  his 
condition,  and  wear  his  shackles  as  easily  as  possible,  un- 
til an  opportunity  offered  of  effecting  his  escape.  His  new 
master,  after  lingering  around  the  late  encampment  until 
late  in  the  day,  at  length  shouldered  his  wallet,  and  moved 
off  by  the  same  route  which  the  Shawnees  had  taken. 
By  noon,  on  the  following  day,  they  came  up  with  them, 
when  a curious  scene  ensued.  As  soon  as  the  Shawnees 
had  become  sober,  they  repented  their  late  liberality,  and 
determined  to  reclaim  their  prisoner;  the  Mingo  stoutly 
demurred,  and  a long  argument  took  place,  accompanied 
by  animated  gestures,  and  not  a few  oaths  on  both  sides. 
At  length  Messhawa  put  an  end  to  the  wrangling  by 
seizing  a horse  by  the  halter,  and  ordering  Johnston  in- 
stantly to  mount.  He  then  sprung  upon  another,  and 
applying  the  lash  smartly  to  both  horses,  he  quickly  bore 
the  prisoner  beyond  the  sound  of  the  Mingo’s  voice. 

An  hour’s  ride  brought  them  to  Upper  Sandusky,  where 
Messhawa  dismounted,  and  awaited  the  arrival  of  Chick- 
atommo.  He  soon  appeared,  accompanied  by  his  party, 
and  followed  by  the  discontented  Mingo.  This  man  re- 
garded Johnston  from  time  to  time  with  so  earnest  a 
countenance,  and  appeared  so  desirous  of  approaching 
him,  that  the  latter  became  alarmed,  lest  in  the  rage  of 
disappointment,  he  should  inflict  upon  the  prisoner  tka 


£18 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE, 


vengeance  which  he  dared  not  indulge  against  the  Shaw- 
nees.  But  his  fears  were  quickly  relieved.  The  Mingo 
dogged  him  so  faithfully,  that  he  at  length  came  upon 
him  while  alone,  and  approaching  him  with  a good  natured 
smile,  presented  a small  pamphlet  which  Johnston  had 
dropped  on  the  preceding  day.  Having  done  this,  ho 
shook  him  by  the  hand,  and  immediately  left  the  village 

At  Sandusky,  Johnston  became  acquainted  with  Mr. 
Duchouquet,  a French  trader,  who  had  for  several  years 
resided  among  the  Indians,  and  was  extensively  engaged 
in  the  fur  trade.  To  him,  he  recounted  his  adventures, 
and  earnestly  solicited  his  good  offices  in  delivering  him 
from  the  Indians.  Duchouquet  promptly  assured  him, 
that  every  exertion  should  be  used  for  that  purpose,  and 
lost  no  time  in  redeeming  his  pledge.  That  evening  he 
spoke  to  Chickatommo,  and  offered  a liberal  ransom  for 
the  prisoner,  but  his  efforts  were  fruitless.  The  Shaw 
nee  chief  did  not  object  to  the  price,  but  declared  that  no 
sum  should  induce  them  to  give  him  up,  until  they  had 
first  taken  him  to  their  towns.  This  answer  was  quickly 
reported  to  Johnston,  and  filled  him  with  despair.  But 
as  the  Shawnee  party  were  engaged  in  another  drinking 
bout,  he  entreated  Duchouquet,  to  seize  the  favorable 
moment,  when  their  hearts  were  mellowed  by  rum,  and 
repeat  his  offer.  The  Frenchman  complied,  and  was 
again  peremptorily  refused.  Johnston  now  desired  him 
to  inquire  of  Chickatommo  the  name  of  the  town  to 
which  he  was  to  be  taken,  and  the  fate  which  was  in  re- 
serve lor  him,  upon  his  arrival  there. 

To  the  first  question  Chickatommo  promptly  replied, 
that  the  prisoner  was  to  be  carried  to  the  Miami  villages, 
but  to  the  second  he  gave  no  satisfactory  answer,  being 
probably  ignorant  himself  upon  the  subject.  The  men- 
tion of  the  Miami  villages,  completely  extinguished  every 
#park  of  hope  which  still  existed  in  Johnston’s  breast,  a* 
those  towns  had  heretofore  been  the  grave  of  every 
white  prisoner  who  had  visited  them.  He  had  also  heard, 
that  the  Indians  carefully  concealed  from  their  victims  the 
late  which  awaited  them,  either  from  some  instinctive 
feelings  of  compassion,  or  more  probably  from  policy,  in 


JOHNSTON,  FLINN,  AND  SKYLES.  , 219 

order  to  prevent  the  desperate  efforts  to  escape,  which 
were  usual  with  prisoners  who  were  informed  of  their 
destiny.  Under  these  circumstances,  he  gloomily  aban- 
doned himself  to  despair,  and  lay  down  in  helpless  ex- 
pectation of  his  fate.  But  no  sooner  had  he  abandoned 
the  case,  than  fortune,  as  usual,  put  in  her  oar,  and  dis- 
played that  capricious  but  omnipotent  power,  for  which 
she  has  so  long  and  so  deservedly  been  celebrated.  The 
game  Wyandott  trader,  who  had  encountered  them  in  the 
wilderness,  now  again  appeared  at  Sandusky,  with  several 
horses  laden  with  kegs  of  rum,  and  in  the  course  of  two 
days,  completely  stripped  them  of  every  skin,  blanket, 
and  article  of  merchandise,  which  had  escaped  his  rapa- 
city before. 

On  the  morning  of  the  third  day,  Chickatommo  and 
his  party  awoke  as  from  a dream,  and  found  themselves 
poor,  destitute,  ragged,  and  hungry,  without  the  means  of 
supplying  any  of  their  wants.  Ashamed  to  return  to 
their  village  in  this  condition,  after  having  sent  before 
them  so  magnificent  a description  of  their  wealth,  they 
determined  to  return  to  the  Ohio,  in  hopes  of  again  re- 
plenishing their  purses  at  the  expense  of  emigrants. 
They  accordingly  appeared  of  their  own  accord  before 
Duchouquet,  and  declared  that  as  the  scalp  of  their  pris- 
oner would  be  transported  more  easily  than  his  person, 
they  had  determined  to  burn  him  on  that  evening;  but,  if 
he  still  wished  to  purchase  him,  they  would  forego  the 
expected  entertainment  for  his  sake,  and  let  him  have 
the  prisoner  upon  good  terms.  Duchouquet  eagerly  ac- 
eepted  the  offer,  and  instantly  counted  down  six  hundred 
silver  brooches,  the  ordinary  price  of  a prisoner.  The 
Indians  lost  no  time  in  delivering  him  into  the  trader's 
hands,  and  having  taken  an  affectionate  leave  of  him, 
they  instantly  set  out  for  the  Ohio. 

Johnston’s  gratification  may  easily  be  conceived,  but 
on  the  following  day,  his  apprehensions  returned  with 
renewed  vigor.  To  his  great  surprise,  Chickatommo  and 
his  party  again  made  their  appearance  at  Sandusky,  hav- 
ing abandoned  their  contemplated  trip  to  Ohio,  and  loi- 
tered about  the  village  for  several  days,  without  any 


220  WESTERN  ADVENTURE* 

visible  cause  for  such  capricious  conduct.  Johnston, 
recollecting  their  former  whimsical  bargain  with  tht 
Mingo,  was  apprehensive  that  the  same  scene  was  to  bn 
repeated,  and  resolving  not  to  be  taken  alive,  he  armed 
himself,  and  awaited  calmly  their  determination.  His 
suspicions,  however,  were  entirely  groundless.  They 
passed  him  several  times  without  the  slightest  notice, 
and  at  length  set  off  in  earnest  for  Detroit,  leaving  him 
at  full  liberty  with  his  friend  Duchouquet. 

On  the  evening  of  their  departure,  a Delaware  arrived 
from  the  Miami  villages,  with  the  heart-rending  intelli- 
gence, that  his  unfortunate  companion,  Flinn,  had  been 
burned  at  the  stake  a few  days  before.  The  savage  de- 
clared that  he  himself  had  been  present  at  the  spectacle, 
had  assisted  in  torturing  him,  and  had  afterwards  eaten  a 
portion  of  his  flesh,  which  he  declared  “ was  sweeter  than 
bear’s  meat.”  The  intelligence  was  fully  confirmed  on 
the  following  day  by  a Canadian  trader,  who  had  just  left 
the  Miami  towns.  He  stated  that  Flinn  had  been  taken 
to  their  villages,  and  at  first  had  entertained  strong  hopes 
of  being  adopted,  as  his  bold,  frank,  and  fearless  character 
had  made  considerable  impression  upon  his  enemies.  But 
the  arrival  of  some  wild  chiefs  from  the  extreme  northern 
tribes,  most  of  whom  were  cannibals,  had  completely 
changed  his  prospects.  A wild  council  was  held,  in 
which  the  most  terrible  sentiments  with  regard  to  the 
whites  were  uttered.  The  custom  of  adopting  prisoners 
was  indignantly  reprobated,  as  frivolous  and  absurd,  and 
the  resolution  proclaimed  that  henceforth  no  quarter 
should  be  given  to  any  age,  sex,  or  condition. 

Flinn  was  accordingly  seized  and  fastened  to  the  stake 
The  trader  was  one  of  the  spectators.  Flinn  quickly  ob- 
served him,  and  asked  if  he  was  not  ashamed  to  witness 
the  distress  of  a fellow  creature  in  that  manner,  without 
making  some  effort  to  relieve  him;  upon  which  he  instant 
ly  ran  to  the  village  and  brought  out  several  kegs  of  rum, 
which  he  offered  as  a ransom  for  the  prisoner.  The  In- 
dians, who,  by  this  time,  were  in  a terrible  rage,  rejected 
the  offer  with  fierceness,  and  split  the  heads  of  the  kegs 
with  their  tomahawks,  suffering  the  liquor  to  flow  unheed- 


JOHNSTON,  FLINN,  AND  SKYLES.  221 

ed  upon  the  ground.  The  disappointed  trader  again  re- 
turned to  the  village,  and  brought  ©ut  six  hundred  silver 
brooches.  They,  in  turn,  were  rejected  with  additional 
fury,  and  not  without  a threat  of  treating  him  in  the  same 
manner,  if  he  again  interfered.  The  trader,  finding  every 
effort  vain,  communicated  his  ill  success  to  Flinn,  who 
heard  him  with  composure,  and  barely  replied,  “Then  all 
I have  to  say  is,  God  have  mercy  upon  my  soul!” 

The  scene  of  torture  then  commenced,  amid  whoops  and 
yells,  which  struck  terror  to  the  heart  of  the  trader,  but 
which  the  prisoner  bore  with  the  most  heroic  fortitude. 
Not  a groan  escaped  him.  He  walked  calmly  around  the 
stake  for  several  hours,  until  his  flesh  was  roasted,  and 
the  fire  had  burned  down.  An  old  squaw  then  approached 
in  order  to  rekindle  it,  but  Flinn,  watching  his  opportunity, 
gave  her  so  furious  a kick  in  the  breast,  that  she  fell  back 
totally  insensible,  and  for  several  minutes  she  was  unable 
to  take  any  further  share  in  the  ceremony.  The  warriors 
then  bored  his  ancles,  and  passing  thongs  through  the  sin- 
ews, confined  them  closely  to  the  stake,  so  that  he  was 
unable  afterwards  to  offer  the  same  resistance.  His  suf- 
ferings continued  for  many  hours,  until  they  were  at 
length  terminated  by  the  tomahawk. 

Within  a few  days,  he  also  heard  of  Skyles.  After 
leaving  Johnston,  this  gentleman  had  been  conducted  to 
one  of  the  towns  on  the  Miami  of  the  lake,  near  the  scene 
of  Flinn’s  execution,  where,  as  usual,  he  was  compelled 
to  run  the  gauntlet.  The  Indian  boys  were  his  chief  tor- 
mentors. One  of  the  little  urchins  displayed  particular 
address  and  dexterity  in  his  infernal  art.  He  provided 
himself  with  a stout  switch  taken  from  a thorn  tree,  upon 
which  one  of  the  largest  thorns  had  been  permitted  to  re 
main.  As  Skyles  passed  him,  he  drove  the  keen  instru- 
ment up  to  the  head  in  his  naked  back.  The  switch  was 
wrested  from  his  grasp,  and  was  borne  by  Skyles,  sticking 
in  his  back,  to  the  end  of  his  painful  career.  He  continued 
in  the  hands  of  the  same  crabbed  master,  who  had  taken 
such  pleasure  in  tormenting  him  upon  the  march  through 
the  wilderness;  but  had  found  means  to  make  himself  so 


322 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


acceptable  to  his  squaw,  that  his  time  was  rendered  more 
agreeable  than  he  could  have  anticipated. 

He  carried  water  for  her,  gathered  her  wood,  and  sooth- 
ed her  sullen  temper  by  a thousand  little  artifices,  so  that 
her  husband,  who  stood  in  some  awe  of  his  helpmate,  was 
compelled  to  abate  somewhat  of  his  churlishness.  He  at 
length  reaped  the  fruit  of  his  civility.  The  squaw  return- 
ed one  evening  alone  to  the  wigwam,  and  informed  Skyles, 
in  confidence,  that  his  death  had  been  determined  on,  in 
council,  and  that  the  following  day  had  been  appointed  for 
his  execution.  He  at  first  doubted  the  truth  of  this  start- 
ling intelligence,  and  retiring  to  rest  as  usual,  feigned  to 
be  asleep,  but  listened  attentively  to  the  conversation  of 
the  old  squaw  with  her  daughter,  a young  girl  of  fifteen. 
His  doubts  were  quickly  dispelled.  His  approaching  ex- 
ecution was  the  subject  of  conversation  between  them, 
and  their  language  soon  became  warm.  The  old  lady 
insisted  upon  it  that  he  was  a good  man,  and  ought  to  be 
saved;  while  the  girl  exulted  at  the  idea  of  witnessing  his 
agonies,  declaring  repeatedly  that  the  “ white  people  were 
all  devils,”  and  ought  to  be  put  to  death. 

At  length  they  ceased  wrangling,  and  composed  them- 
selves to  rest.  Skyles  then  arose,  took  down  his  master’s 
rifle,  shot  bag,  and  corn  pouch,  and  stepping  lightly  over 
the  bodies  of  the  family,  quickly  gained  the  wood,  and 
bent  his  steps  to  the  bank  of  the  Miami  river.  Without 
an  instant’s  delay,  he  plunged  into  the  stream,  and  swam 
to  the  opposite  side.  In  doing  so,  however,  he  completely 
ruined  his  rifle,  and  was  compelled  to  throw  it  away 
Retaining  the  wallet  of  parched  corn,  he  directed  his  steps 
to  the  southward,  intending,  if  possible,  to  strike  the  set- 
tlements in  Kentucky,  but  so  poor  a woodsman  was  he, 
that  after  a hard  march  of  six  hours,  he  again  stumbled 
upon  the  Miami,  within  one  hundred  yards  of  the  spot 
where  he  had  crossed  it  before.  While  anxiously  medi- 
tating upon  the  best  means  of  avoiding  the  dangers  which 
urrounded  him,  he  heard  the  tinkle  of  a bell  within  a few 
hundred  yards  of  the  spot  where  he  stood,  and  directing 
hie  steps  towards  it,  he  saw  a horse  grazing  quietly  upon 
tho  rank  grass  of  the  bottom. 


JOHNSTON,  FLINN,  AND  S RYLES.  223 

Instantly  mounting  him,  he  again  attempted  to  move  in 
a southern  direction,  but  was  compelled  by  the  thickness 
of  the  wood,  and  the  quantity  of  fallen  timber,  to  change 
his  course  so  frequently,  that  he  again  became  bewildered, 
and  abandoning  his  horse,  determined  to  prosecute  his 
journey  on  foot.  Daylight  found  him  in  a deep  forest, 
without  a path  to  direct  him,  without  the  means  of  pro- 
curing food,  and  without  the  slightest  knowledge  of  any 
of  those  signs  by  which  an  experienced  woodsman  is  en- 
abled to  direct  his  course  through  a trackless  wilderness 
with  such  unerring  certainty.  Fearful  of  stumbling  una- 
wares upon  some  Indian  town,  he  lay  concealed  all  day, 
and  at  night  recommenced  his  journey.  But  fresh  per- 
plexities awaited  him  at  every  step.  He  was  constantly 
encountering  either  a small  village  or  a solitary  wigwam, 
from  which  he  was  frequently  chased  by  the  Indian  dogs, 
with  such  loud  and  furious  barking,  that  he  more  than 
once  considered  detection  inevitable. 

In  this  manner  he  wandered  through  the  woods  for  sev- 
eral days,  until  faint  with  hunger,  he  determined  at  all 
risks  to  enter  an  Indian  village,  and  either  procure  food 
or  perish  in  the  attempt.  Having  adopted  this  resolution, 
he  no  longer  loitered  on  the  way,  but  throwing  himself 
boldly  upon  the  first  path  which  presented  itself,  he  follow- 
ed it  at  a brisk  and  steady  pace,  careless  of  where  it  might 
lead.  About  four  o’clock  in  the  afternoon,  he  came  so 
suddenly  upon  a village  that  it  was  impossible  to  retreat 
without  exposing  himself  to  detection,  and  as  he  consider- 
ed it  madness  to  enter  it  in  daylight,  he  concealed  himself 
among  some  old  logs  until  nightfall,  when  he  sallied  out 
like  an  owl  or  a wolf  in  search  of  something  to  allay  the 
piercing  pangs  of  hunger.  Nothing  could  be  picked  up 
upon  the  skirts  of  the  village,  as  neither  roasting-ears  nor 
garden  fruit  were  in  season,  and  it  became  necessary  to 
enter  the  town  or  perish  of  hunger. 

Fortunately,  the  embers  of  a decayed  fire  lay  near  him, 
in  which  he  found  a sufficient  quantity  of  coal  with  which 
to  black  his  face  and  hands;  and  having  completely  dis- 
guised himself  in  this  manner,  he  boldly  marched  into  the 
hostile  town,  to  take  such  fate  as  it  should  please  heaven 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


224 

to  send*  He  luckily  had  with  him  the  remnant  of  a blan 
ket,  which  he  disposed  about  his  person  in  the  usual  Indi 
an  manner,  and  imitating  at  the  same  time  their  strag- 
gling gait,  he  kept  the  middle  of  the  street  and  passed  un- 
questioned by  squaw  or  warrior.  Fortunately  for  him, 
the  streets  were  almost  entirely  deserted,  and  as  he  after- 
wards learned,  most  of  the  warriors  were  absent.  Securi- 
ty, however,  was  not  his  present  object  so  much  as  food, 
which  indeed  had  now  become  indispensable.  Yet  how 
was  he  to  obtain  it?  He  would  not  have  hesitated  to  steal 
had  he  known  where  to  look  for  the  larders;  nor  to  be^ 
had  he  not  known  that  he  would  have  been  greeted  with 
die  tomahawk. 

While  slowly  marching  through  the  village,  and  rumi- 
nating upon  some  feasible  plan  of  satisfying  his  wants, 
he  saw  light  in  a wigwam  at  some  distance,  which  gave 
it  the  appearance  of  a trader’s  booth.  Cautiously  ap- 
proaching, he  satisfied  himself  of  the  truth  of  his  conjec- 
ture. A white  man  was  behind  a counter  dealing  out 
various  articles  to  several  squaws  who  stood  around  him. 
After  some  hesitation,  Skyles  entered  the  shop,  and  in  bad 
English  asked  for  rum.  The  trader  regarded  him  care- 
lessly, and  without  appearing  surprised  at  either  his  dress 
or  manner,  replied  that  he  had  no  rum  in  the  house,  but 
would  go  and  bring  him  some,  if  he  could  wait  a few  mo- 
ments. So  saying,  he  leaped  carelessly  over  the  counter 
and  left  the  shop.  Skyles  instantly  followed  him,  and 
stopping  him  in  the  street,  briefly  recounted  his  story,  and 
throwing  himself  upon  his  mercy,  earnestly  implored  his 
assistance. 

The  trader  appeared  much  astonished,  and  visibly  hes- 
itated. Quickly  recovering  himself,  however,  he  assured 
Skyles  that  he  would  use  every  effort  to  save  him,  although 
in  doing  so,  he  himself  would  incur  great  risk.  He  then 
informed  him  that  a band  of  Shawnees  had  appeared  at 
the  village  on  that  very  morning  in  keen  pursuit  of  a 
prisoner,  who  (they  said)  had  escaped  a few  days  before, 
and  whom  they  supposed  to  be  still  in  the  neighborhood, 
from  the  zigzag  manner  in  which  he  had  travelled.  Many 
of  the  warriors  of  the  town  were  at  that  moment  assisting 


JOHNSTON,  FLINN,  AND  SKYLES. 


225 


the  Shawnees  in  hunting  for  him.  He  added,  that  they 
might  be  expected  to  return  in  the  morning,  in  which 
case,  if  discovered,  his  death  would  be  certain.  Skyles 
listened  in  great  alarm  to  his  account  of  the  danger  which 
surrounded  him.  If  he  left  the  village,  he  could  scarcely 
expect  to  escape  the  numerous  bands  who  were  ranging 
the  forest  in  search  of  him! — If  he  remained  where  he 
was,  the  danger  was  still  more  imminent. 

Under  these  circumstances,  he  earnestly  requested  the 
advice  of  the  trader  as  to  the  best  means  of  avoiding  his 
enemies.  The  man  replied,  that  he  must  instantly  leave 
the  village,  as  keen  eyes  would  be  upon  him  in  the  mor- 
ning, and  his  design  would  be  penetrated.  That  he  must 
conceal  himself  in  a hazel  thicket,  which  he  pointed  out 
to  him,  where  in  a short  time  he  would  join  him  with  food, 
and  where  they  could  arrange  some  feasible  plan  of  escape. 
They  then  separated,  the  trader  returning  to  his  shop, 
and  Skyles  repairing  to  the  friendly  thicket.  Here  within 
a few  minutes  he  was  joined  by  his  friend,  who  informed 
him  that  he  saw  but  one  possible  mode  of  escape.  That 
it  would  be  impossible  for  him  either  to  remain  where  he 
was,  or  to  attempt  to  reach  the  white  settlements  through 
the  woods;  but  he  declared  that  if  he  was  diligent  and 
active,  he  might  overtake  a boat,  which  had  left  them  that 
morning  for  Lake  Erie,  and  offered  him  his  own  skiff  for 
that  purpose. 

He  added  that  the  boat  was  laden  with  furs,  and  was 
commanded  by  an  English  captain,  who  would  gladly  re- 
ceive him  on  board.  Skyles  eagerly  embraced  the  offer, 
and  they  proceeded  without  a moment’s  delay  to  the  river 
shore,  where  a handsome  skiff  with  two  oars  lay  in  readi- 
ness for  the  water.  Having  taken  an  affectionate  leave 
of  the  trader,  Skyles  put  off  from  shore,  and  quickly  gain- 
ing the  current,  rowed  until  daylight  with  the  zeal  of  a 
man  who  knew  the  value  of  life  and  liberty.  His  greatest 
apprehension  was,  that  his  flight  would  be  discovered  in 
time  to  prevent  his  reaching  the  boat;  and  at  every  rust- 
ling of  the  bushes  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  or  at  every 
cry  of  the  owl  which  arose  from  the  deep  forest  around 
him,  the  blood  would  rush  back  to  his  heart,  and  he  would 


226 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


fancy  that  his  enemies  were  upon  him.  At  length,  be- 
tween dawn  and  sunrise,  he  beheld  the  boat,  which  he 
had  pursued  so  eagerly,  only  a few  hundred  yards  in  front, 
drifting  slowly  and  calmly  down  the  stream. 

He  redoubled  his  exertions,  and  in  half  an  hour,  wa* 
within  hailing  distance.  He  called  aloud  for  them  to  halt, 
but  no  answer  was  returned.  Upon  coming  along  side, 
he  was  unable  to  see  a single  man  on  board.  Supposing 
her  crew  asleep,  he  mounted  the  side  of  the  vessel,  and 
saw  the  man  at  the  helm  enjoying  a very  comfortable  nap, 
with  the  most  enviable  disregard  to  the  dangers  which 
might  await  him  in  the  waters  of  Lake  Erie,  which 
were  then  in  sight.  The  helmsman  started  up,  rubbed  hie 
eyes,  looked  around  him,  and  after  saluting  his  visitor, 
observed  that  “he  had  almost  fallen  asleep.”  Skyle* 
agreed  with  him,  and  anxiously  inquired  for  the  captain. 
The  latter  soon  made  his  appearance  in  a woollen  night- 
cap, and  the  negotiation  commenced.  The  captain  asked 
who  he  was,  and  what  was  the  cause  of  so  early  a visit? 
Skyles  was  fearful  of  committing  himself  by  a premature 
disclosure  of  his  real  character,  and  replied,  that  he  was 
an  adventurer  wTho  had  been  looking  out  for  land  upon  the 
Auglaize;  but  that  he  had  been  driven  from  the  country 
by  the  apprehension  of  outrage  from  the  Indians,  who  had 
lately  become  unusually  incensed  against  the  whites. 

The  captain  coolly  replied,  that  he  had  heard  of  one 
white  man  having  been  burned  a few  days  before,  at  one 
of  the  Miami  villages,  and  had  understood  that  another 
had  avoided  the  same  fate  only  by  running  away  into  the 
woods,  where,  unless  retaken,  it  was  supposed  he  would 
perish,  as  he  had  shown  himself  a miserable  woodsman, 
and  as  numerous  parties  were  in  search  of  him.  After  a 
moment’s  hesitation  Skyles  frankly  acknowledged  himself 
to  be  that  miserable  fugitive,  and  threw  himself  at  once 
upon  their  mercy.  The  English  captain  heard  him  appa- 
rently without  surprise,  and  granted  his  request  without 
hesitation.  All  was  done  with  the  utmost  sang  froid. 
In  a short  time,  they  arrived  at  Detroit,  wrhere  to  his  no 
small  astonishment,  he  beheld  Chickatommo,  Messhawa, 
and  their  party,  who  had  just  arrived  from  Sandusky,  after 


r 


JOHNSTON,  FLINN,  AND  SKYLES.  227 

the  sale  of  Johnston.  Carefully  avoiding  them,  he  lay 
close  in  the  house  of  a trader  until  the  following  day, 
when  another  large  party  arrived  in  pursuit  of  him,  (hav- 
ing traced  him  down  the  river  to  Lake  Erie,)  and  paraded 
the  streets  for  several  days,  uttering  loud  complaints 
against  those  who  had  robbed  them  of  their  prisoner.  Poor 
Skyles  entertained  the  most  painful  apprehensions  for 
several  days,  but  was  at  length  relieved  by  their  depar- 
ture. As  soon  as  possible,  he  obtained  a passage  to  Mon- 
treal, and  returned  in  safety  to  the  United  States. 

In  noticing  the  fate  of  the  companions  of  Johnston’s 
captivity,  we  are  naturally  led  to  say  something  of  the  on- 
ly female  of  the  party.  The  reader  cannot  have  forgotten 
that  one  of  the  Miss  Flemings  was  killed  upon  the  Ohio, 
and  that  the  other  became  a prisoner,  and  was  assigned 
to  the  Cherokees.  Johnston  had  been  much  surprised  at 
the  levity  of  her  conduct,  when  first  taken.  Instead  of 
appearing  dejected  at  the  dreadful  death  of  her  sister,  and 
the  still  more  terrible  fate  of  her  friends,  she  never  ap- 
peared more  lively  or  better  reconciled  to  her  fate  than 
while  her  captors  lingered  upon  the  banks  of  the  Ohio. 
Upon  the  breaking  up  of  the  party,  the  Cherokees  conduct- 
ed their  prisoner  towards  the  Miami  villages,  and  Johnston 
saw  nothing  more  of  her  until  after  his  own  liberation. 
While  he  remained  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Duchouquet,  the 
small  party  of  Cherokees  to  whom  she  belonged,  suddenly 
made  their  appearance  in  the  village,  in  a condition  so 
tattered  and  dilapidated,  as  to  satisfy  every  one  that  all 
their  booty  had  been  wasted  with  their  usual  improvi- 
dence. 

Miss  Fleming’s  appearance,  particularly,  had  been  en 
tirely  changed.  All  the  levity  which  had  astonished  John- 
ston so  much  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  was  completely 
gone.  Her  dress  was  tattered,  her  cheeks  sunken,  her 
eyes  discolored  by  weeping,  and  her  whole  manner  ex 
pressive  of  the  most  heartfelt  wretchedness.  Johnston 
addressed  her  with  kindness,  and  inquired  the  cause  of  so 
great  a change,  but  she  only  replied  by  wringing  her 
hands,  and  bursting  into  tears.  Her  master  quickly  sum- 
moned her  away,  and  on  the  morning  after  her  arrival,  she 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


328 

was  compelled  to  leave  the  village,  and  accompany  them 
to  Lower  Sandusky.  Within  a few  days,  Johnston,  in 
company  with  his  friend  Duchouquet,  followed  them  to 
that  place,  partly  upon  business,  partly  with  the  hope  of 
procuring  her  liberation.  He  found  the  town  thronged 
with  Indians  of  various  tribes,  and  there,  for  the  first  time, 
he  learned  that  his  friend  Skyles  had  effected  his  escape. 
Upon  inquiring  for  the  Cherokees,  he  learned  that  they 
were  encamped  with  their  prisoner  within  a quarter  of  a 
mile  of  the  town,  holding  themselves  aloof  from  the  rest, 
and  evincing  the  most  jealous  watchfulness  over  their 
prisoner. 

Johnston  instantly  applied  to  the  traders  of  Sandus- 
ky for  their  good  offices,  and  as  usual,  the  request  was 
promptly  complied  with.  They  went  out.  in  a body  to  the 
Cherokee  camp,  accompanied  by  a white  man  named 
Whittaker,  who  had  been  taken  from  Virginia  when  a 
child,  and  had  become  completely  naturalized  among  the 
Indians.  This  Whittaker  was  personally  known  to  Miss 
Fleming,  having  often  visited  Pittsburgh  where  her  father 
kept  a small  tavern,  much  frequented  by  Indians  and  tra- 
ders. As  soon  as  she  beheld  him,  therefore,  she  ran  up 
to  the  spot  where  he  stood,  and  bursting  into  tears,  im- 
plored him  to  save  her  from  the  cruel  fate  which  she  had 
no  doubt  awaited  her.  He  engaged  very  zealously  in  her 
service,  and  finding  that  all  the  offers  of  the  traders  were 
rejected  with  determined  obstinacy,  he  returned  to  De- 
troit, and  solicited  the  intercession  of  an  old  chief  known 
among  the  whites  by  the  name  of  “Old  King  Crane,”  as- 
suring him,  (a  lie  which  we  can  scarcely  blame,)  that  the 
woman  was  his  sister. 

King  Crane  listened  writh  gravity  to  the  appeal  of 
Whittaker,  acknowledged  the  propriety  of  interfering  in 
the  case  of  so  near  a relative,  and  very  calmly  walked 
out  to  the  Cherokee  camp,  in  order  to  try  the  efficacy  of 
his  own  eloquence  in'  behalf  of  the  white  squaw.  He 
found  her  master,  however,  perfectly  inexorable.  The 
argument  gradually  waxed  warm,  until  at  length  the 
Cherokees  became  enraged,  and  told  the  old  man  that  it 
was  a disgrace  10  a chief  like  him,  to  put  himself  upon  a 


JOHNSTON,  FLINN,  AND  SKYLES. 


229 

level  with  “ white  people,”  and  that  they  looked  upon  him 
as  no  better  than  “ dirt.”  At  this  insupportable  insult,  King 
Crane  became  exasperated  in  turn,  and  a very  edifying 
scene  ensued,  in  which  each  bespattered  the  other  with  a 
profusion  of  abuse  for  several  minutes,  until  the  Old  King 
recollected  himself  sufficiently  to  draw  off  for  the  present, 
and  concert  measures  for  obtaining  redress.  He  returned 
to  the  village  in  a towering  passion,  and  announced  his 
determination  to  collect  his  young  men  and  rescue  the 
white  squaw  by  force ; and  if  the  Cherokees  dared  to  re- 
sist, he  swore  that  he  would  take  their  scalps  upon  the 
spot. 

Whittaker  applauded  this  doughty  resolution,  but  warned 
him  of  the  necessity  of  despatch,  as  the  Cherokees,  alarmed 
at  the  idea  of  losing  their  prisoner,  might  be  tempted  to 
put  her  to  death  without  further  delay.  This  advice  was 
acknowledged  to  be  of  weight,  and  before  daylight  on  the 
following  morning,  King  Crane  assembled  his  young  men 
and  advanced  cautiously  upon  the  Cherokee  encampment. 
He  found  all  but  the  miserable  prisoner  buried  in  sleep. 
She  had  been  stripped  naked,  her  body  painted  black,  and 
in  this  condition,  had  been  bound  to  a stake,  around  which 
hickory  poles  had  already  been  collected,  and  every  other 
disposition  made  for  burning  her  alive  at  daylight.  She 
was  moaning  in  a low  tone  as  her  deliverers  approached, 
and  was  so  much  exhausted  as  not  to  be  aware  of  their 
approach  until  King  Crane  had  actually  cut  the  cords 
which  bound  her,  with  his  knife.  He  then  ordered  his 
young  men  to  assist  her  in  putting  on  her  clothes,  which 
they  obeyed  with  the  most  stoical  indifference. 

As  soon  as  her  toilet  had  been  completed,  the  King 
awakened  her  masters,  and  informed  them  that  the  squaw 
was  his!  that  if  they  submitted  quietly,  it  was  well! — if 
not,  his  young  men  and  himself  were  ready  for  them. 
The  Cherokees,  as  may  readily  be  imagined,  protested 
loudly  against  such  unrighteous  proceedings,  but  what 
could  words  avail  against  drawn  tomahawks  and  superior 
numbers?  They  finally  expressed  their  willingness  to 
resign  the  squaw;  but  hoped  that  King  Crane  would  not 
be  such  a “ beast”  as  to  refuse  them  the  ransom  which 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


230 

he  had  offered  them  on  the  preceding  day!  The  King 
replied  coolly,  that  he  had  the  squaw  now  in  his  own 
hands;  and  would  serve  them  only  right  if  he  refused  to  pay 
a ‘single  brooch;  but  that  he  disdained  to  receive  any  thing 
at  their  hands,  without  paying  an  equivalent,  and  would 
give  them  six  hundred  silver  brooches.  He  then  returned 
to  Lower  Sandusky,  accompanied  by  the  liberated  pris- 
oner. She  was  instantly  painted  as  a squaw  by  Whitta- 
ker, and  sent  off,  under  care  of  two  trusty  Indians  to 
Pittsburgh,  where  she  arrived  in  safety  in  the  course  of 
the  following  week. 

The  Cherokees,  in  the  evening,  paraded  the  streets  ol 
Sandusky,  armed  and  painted,  as  if  upon  a war  party, 
and  loudly  complained  of  the  violence  which  had  been 
offered  to  them.  They  declared  that  they  would  not 
leave  town  until  they  had  shed  the  blood  of  a white  man, 
in  revenge  for  the  loss  of  their  prisoner.  Johnston  and 
Duchouquet  were  compelled  to  remain  closely  at  home 
for  several  days,  until,  to  their  great  joy,  the  Cherokees 
finally  left  the  village  and  were  seen  no  more. 

The  remainder  of  Johnston’s  narrative  is  easily  des- 
patched. He  soon  after  left  Lower  Sandusky,  and  em- 
barked in  a boat  laden  with  fur  for  Detroit.  After  remain- 
ing here  a few  days,  he  took  a passage  to  Montreal,  and 
for  the  first  and  last  time,  had  an  opportunity  of  beholding 
the  tremendous  falls  of  Niagara.*  Having  arrived  at 
Montreal  in  safety,  he  remained  a few  days  in  order  to 
arrange  his  affairs,  and  as  soon  as  possible,  continued  his 
journey  by  way  of  Fort  Stanwix  to  New  York.  There 
he  had  an  interview  with  President  Washington,  who, 
having  been  informed  of  his  escape,  sent  for  him,  in  order 
to  make  a number  of  inquiries  as  to  the  strength  of  the 
tribes  through  which  he  had  passed,  the  force  and  condi- 
tion of  the  British  garrisons,  and  the  degree  of  counten- 
ance which  they  had  afforded  to  the  hostile  Indians.  Hav- 
ing  given  all  the  information  of  which  he  was  possessed, 
he  was  dismissed  with  great  kindness,  and  in  the  course 

# This  was  an  Iroquois  word,  and  in  their  language  signifies  “The 
Thunder  of  the  waters!”  It  is  pronounced  O-ni-aa-gaa-ra. 


WILLIAM  HUBBELL.  231 

of  the  following  week,  he  found  himself  once  more  in  the 
bosom  of  his  family. 

As  the  reader  may  probably  take  some  interest  in  the 
fate  of  the  Indians  whom  we  have  mentioned,  we  are 
enabled  to  add  something  upon  that  subject.  Chicka- 
tommo  was  killed  at  the  decisive  battle  of  the  “ Fallen 
timber,”  where  the  united  force  of  the  northwestern 
tribes  was  defeated  by  General  Wayne.  Messhawa 
fought  at  the  same  place,  but  escaped,  and  afterwards  be- 
came a devoted  follower  of  the  celebrated  Tecumseh.  He 
fought  at  Tippenanoe,  Raisin,  and  finally  at  the  River 
Thames,  where  it  is  supposed  he  was  killed.  King  Crane 
lived  to  a great  age,  was  present  at  St.  Clair’s  defeat,  and 
at  the  u Fallen  timber,**  but  finally  became  reconciled  to 
the  Americans,  and  fought  under  Harrison  at  Thames. 
Whittaker,  the  white  man,  was  in  St.  Clair’s  defeat,  and 
afterwards  with  the  Indians  against  Wayne.  He  has 
been  dead  many  years.  Tom  Lewis  fought  against  the 
Americans  in  all  the  northwestern  battles,  until  the  final 
peace  in  1796,  and  then  was  one  of  the  deputation  who 
came  on  to  Washington  city,  where  Johnston  saw  him  in 
1797.  He  afterwards  rose  to  the  rank  of  chief  among 
the  Shawnees,  but  having  an  incurable  propensity  to  rum 
and  thieving,  he  was  degraded  from  his  rank  and  removed, 
with  a band  of  his  countrymen,  to  the  country  west  of 
the  Mississippi. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

From  the  Western  Review . 

In  the  year  1791,  while  the  Indians  were  yet  trouble, 
some,  especially  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  Captain  Wil- 
liam Hubbell,  who  had  previously  emigrated  to  Kentucky 
from  the  state  of  Vermont,  and  who,  after  having  fixed  his 
family  in  the  neighborhood  of  Frankfort,  then  a frontier 
settlement,  had  been  compelled  to  go  to  the  eastward  on 


232 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


business,  was  a second  time  on  his  way  to  this  country. 
On  one  of  the  tributary  streams  of  the  river  Mononga 
kela,  he  procured  a flat  bottomed  boat,  and  embarked  in 
company  with  Mr.  Daniel  Light,  and  Mr.  William  Plascut 
and  his  family,  consisting  of  a wife  and  eight  children, 
destined  for  Limestone,  Kentucky.  On  their  progress 
down  the  river  Ohio,  and  soon  after  passing  Pittsburgh, 
they  saw  evident  traces  of  Indians  along  the  banks,  and 
there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  a boat  which  they 
overtook,  and  which,  through  carelessness,  was  suffered 
to  run  aground  on  an  island,  became  a prey  to  these  mer- 
ciless savages. 

Though  Captain  Hubbell  and  his  party  stopped  some 
time  for  it  in  a lower  part  of  the  river,  it  did  not  arrive, 
and  it  has  never  to  their  knowledge  been  heard  of  since. 
Before  they  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Great  Kenhawa, 
they  had,  by  several  successive  additions,  increased  their 
number  to  twenty,  consisting  of  nine  men,  three  women, 
and  eight  children.  The  men,  besides  those  mentioned 
above,  were  one  John  Stoner,  an  Irishman  and  a Dutch- 
man  whose  names  are  not  recollected,  Messrs.  Ray  ana 
Tucker,  and  a Mr.  Kilpatrick,  whose  two  daughters  also 
were  of  the  party.  Information  received  at  Gallipoli* 
confirmed  the  expectation,  which  appearances  previously 
raised,  of  a serious  conflict  with  a large  body  of  Indians; 
and  as  Captain  Hubbell  had  been  regularly  appointed  com- 
mander of  the  boat,  every  possible  preparation  was  made 
for  a formidable  and  successful  resistance  of  the  anticipa- 
ted. attack. 

The  nine  men  were  divided  into  three  watches  for  the 
night,  which  were  alternately  to  continue  awake  and  be 
on  the  look  out  for  two  hours  at  a time.  The  arms  on 
board,  which  consisted  principally  of  old  muskets  much 
out  of  order,  were  collected,  loaded,  and  put  in  the  best 
possible  condition  for  service.  At  about  sunset  on  that 
day,  the  23d  of  March,  1791,  our  party  overtook  a fleet 
of  six  boats  descending  the  river  in  company,  and  intend- 
ed to  have  continued  with  them,  but  as  their  passengers 
seemed  to  be  more  disposed  to  dancing  than  fighting,  and 
as,  soon  after  dark,  notwithstanding  the  remonstrances  of 


WILLIAM  HUBBELL. 


233 


Captain  Hubbell,  they  commenced  fiddling  and  dancing 
instead  of  preparing  their  arms  and  taking  the  necessary 
rest  preparatory  to  battle,  it  was  wisely  considered  more 
hazardous  to  be  in  such  company  than  to  be  alone. 

It  was  therefore  determined  to  proceed  rapidly  forward 
by  aid  of  the  oars,  and  to  leave  those  thoughtless  fellow- 
travelers  behind.  One  of  the  boats,  however,  belonging 
to  the  fleet,  commanded  by  a Captain  Greathouse,  adopted 
the  same  plan,  and  for  a while  kept  up  with  Captain  Hub- 
bell, but  all  its  crew  at  length  falling  asleep,  that  boat 
also  ceased  to  be  propelled  by  the  oars,  and  Captain  Hub- 
bell and  his  party  proceeded  steadily  forward  alone . 
Early  in  the  night  a canoe  was  dimly  seen  floating  down 
the  river,  in  which  were  probably  Indians  reconnoitering. 
and  other  evident  indications  were  observed  of  the  neigh- 
borhood and  hostile  intentions  of  a formidable  party  of 
savages. 

It  was  now  agreed,  that  should  the  attack,  as  was 
orobable,  be  deferred  till  morning,  every  man  should  be 
up  before  the  dawn  in  order  to  make  as  great  a show  as 
possible  of  numbers  and  of  strength;  and  that,  whenever 
the  action  should  take  place,  the  women  and  children 
should  lie  down  on  the  cabin  floor  and  be  protected  as 
well  as  they  could  by  the  trunks  and  other  baggage, 
which  might  be  placed  around  them.  In  this  perilous 
situation  they  continued  during  the  night,  and  the  captain, 
who  had  not  slept  more  than  one  hour  since  he  left  Pitts- 
burgh, was  too  deeply  impressed  with  the  imminent  dan- 
ger which  surrounded  him  to  obtain  any  rest  at  that  time. 

Just  as  daylight  began  to  appear  in  the  east,  and  before 
the  men  were  up  and  at  their  posts  agreeably  to  arrange- 
ment, a voice  at  some  distance  below  them  in  a plaintive 
tone  repeatedly  solicited  them  to  come  on  shore,  as  there 
were  some  white  persons  who  wished  to  obtain  a passage 
in  their  boat.  This  the  captain  very  naturally  and  cor- 
rectly concluded  to  be  an  Indian  artifice,  and  its  only  effect 
was  to  rouse  the  men  and  place  every  one  on  his  guard. 
The  voice  of  entreaty  was  soon  changed  into  the  lan- 
guage of  indignation  and  insult,  and  the  sound  of  distant 
paddles  announced  the  approach  of  the  savage  foe.  At 


*34 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


length  three  Indian  canoes  were  seen  through  the  mist 
of  the  morning  rapidly  advancing.  With  the  utmost 
coolness  the  captain  and  his  companions  prepared  to  re- 
ceive them.  The  chairs,  tables  and  other  incumbrances 
were  thrown  into  the  river,  in  order  to  clear  the  deck  for 
action. 

Every  man  took  his  position,  and  was  ordered  not  to  fire 
till  the  savages  had  approached  so  near,  that,  (to  use  the 
words  of  Captain  Hu})bell,)  “the  flash  from  the  gsns 
might  singe  their  eyebrows;”  and  a special  caution  was 
given,  that  the  men  should  fire  successively,  so  that  there 
might  be  no  interval.  On  the  arrival  of  the  canoes,  they 
were  found  to  contain  about  twenty-five  or  thirty  Indians 
each.  As  soon  as  they  had  approached  within  the  reach 
of  musket  shot,  a general  fire  was  given  from  one  of 
them,  which  wounded  Mr.  Tucker  through  the  hip  so  se- 
verely that  his  leg  hung  only  by  the  flesh,  and  shot  Mr. 
Light  just  below  the  ribs.  The  three  canoes  placed  them- 
selves at  the  bow,  stern,  and  on  the  right  side  of  the  boat, 
so  that  they  had  an  opportunity  of  raking  in  every  direc- 
tion. The  fire  now  commenced  from  the  boat,  and  had  a 
powerful  effect  in  checking  the  confidence  and  fury  of  the 
Indians. 

The  captain,  after  firing  his  own  gun,  took  up  that  of 
one  of  the  wounded  men, raised  it  to  his  shoulder,  and  was 
about  to  discharge  it,  when  a ball  came  and  took  away  the 
lock;  he  coolly  turned  round,  seized  a brand  of  fire  from 
the  kettle  which  served  for  a caboose,  and  applying  it  to 
the  pan,  discharged  the  piece  with  effect.  A very  regu- 
lar and  constant  fire  was  now  kept  up  on  both  sides.  The 
captain  was  just  in  the  act  of  raising  his  gun  a third  time 
when  a ball  passed  through  his  right  arm,  and  for  a mo 
ment  disabled  him.  Scarcely  had  he  recovered  from  the 
shock  and  re-acquired  the  use  of  his  hand,  which  had  been 
suddenly  drawn  up  by  the  wound,  when  he  observed  the 
Indians  in  one  of  the  canoes  just  about  to  board  the  boat 
in  its  bow,  where  the  horses  were  placed  belonging  to  the 
party.  So  near  had  they  approached,  that  some  of  them 
had  actually  seized  with  their  hands  the  side  of  the  boat. 

Severely  wounded  as  he  was,  he  caught  up  a pair  oi 


WrLLIAM  HUBBELL. 


235 


horsemen’s  pistols  and  rushed  forward  to  repel  the  attempt 
at  boarding.  On  his  approach  the  Indians  fell  back,  and 
he  discharged  a pistol  with  effect  at  the  foremost  man. 
After  firing  the  second  pistol,  he  found  himself  without 
arms,  and  was  compelled  to  retreat;  but  stepping  back 
upon  a pile  of  small  wood  which  had  been  prepared  for 
burning  in  the  kettle,  the  thought  struck  him,  that  it  might 
be  made  use  of  in  repelling  the  foe,  and  he  continued  for 
some  time  to  strike  them  with  it  so  forcibly  and  actively 
that  they  were  unable  to  enter  the  boat,  and  at  length  he 
wounded  one  of  them  so  severely  that  with  a yell  they 
suddenly  gave  way.  All  the  canoes  instantly  discontinued 
the  contest  and  directed  their  course  to  Captain  Great- 
house’s boat,  which  was  then  in  sight.  Here  a striking 
contrast  was  exhibited  to  the  firmness  and  intrepidity 
which  had  been  displayed. 

Instead  of  resisting  the  attack,  the  people  on  board  of 
this  boat  retired  to  the  cabin  in  dismay.  The  Indians 
entered  it  without  opposition,  and  rowed  it  to  the  shore, 
where  they  instantly  killed  the  captain  and  a lad  of  about 
fourteen  years  of  age.  The  women  they  placed  in  the 
centre  of  their  canoes,  and  manning  them  with  $*esh 
hands,  again  pursued  Captain  Hubbell  and  party,  A 
melancholy  alternative  now  presented  itself  to  these  brave 
but  almost  desponding  men,  either  to  fall  a prey  to  the 
savages  themselves,  or  to  run  the  risk  of  shooting  the 
women,  who  had  been  placed  in  the  canoes  in  the  hope  of 
deriving  protection  from  their  presence.  But  “ self  pre- 
servation is  the  first  law  of  nature,”  and  the  captain  very 
justly  remarked,  there  would  not  be  much  humanity  in 
preserving  their  lives  at  such  a sacrifice,  merely  that  they 
might  become  victims  of  savage  cruelty  at  some  subse- 
quent period. 

There  were  now  but  four  men  left  on  board  of  Captain 
Hubbell’s  boat,  capable  of  defending  it,  and  the  captain  him- 
self was  severely  wounded  in  two  places.  The  second  attack, 
however,  was  resisted  with  almost  incredible  firmness  and 
vigor.  Whenever  the  Indians  would  rise  to  fire,  their  op- 
ponents would  commonly  give  them  the  first  shot,  which 
m almost  every  instance  would  prove  fatal.  Notwith- 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


$36 

standing  the  disparity  of  numbers,  and  the  exhausted  con- 
dition of  the  defenders  of  the  boat,  the  Indians  at  length 
appeared  to  despair  of  success,  and  the  canoes  successively 
retired  to  the  shore.  Just  as  the  last  one  was  departing, 
Captain  Hubbeli  called  to  the  Indian,  who  was  standing  in 
the  stern,  and  on  his  turning  round,  discharged  his  piece 
at  him.  When  the  smoke,  which  for  a moment  obstructed 
the  vision,  was  dissipated,  he  was  seen  lying  on  his  back, 
and  appeared  to  be  severely,  perhaps  mortally  wounded. 

Unfortunately  the  boat  now  drifted  near  to  the  shore 
where  the  Indians  were  collected,  and  a large  concourse, 
probably  between  four  and  five  hundred,  were  seen  rush- 
ing down  on  the  bank.  Ray  and  Plascut,  the  only  men 
remaining  unhurt,  were  placed  at  the  oars,  and  as  the  boat 
was  not  more  than  twenty  yards  from  shore,  it  was  deem- 
ed prudent  for  all  to  lie  down  in  as  safe  a position  as  pos- 
sible and  attempt  to  push  forward  with  the  utmost  practi- 
cable rapidity.  While  they  continued  in  this  situation, 
nine  balls  were  shot  into  one  oar,  and  ten  into  the  other, 
without  wounding  the  rowers,  who  were  hidden  from  view 
and  protected  by  the  side  of  the  boat  and  the  blankets  in 
its  s^tern.  During  this  dreadful  exposure  to  the  fire  of 
the  savages,  which  continued  about  twenty  minutes,  Mr. 
Kilpatrick  observed  a particular  Indian,  whom  he  thought 
a favorable  mark  for  his  rifle,  and,  notwithstanding  the  so- 
lemn warning  of  Captain  Hubbeli,  rose  to  shoot  him.  He 
immediately  received  a ball  in  his  mouth,  which  passed 
out  at  the  back  part  of  his  head,  and  was  almost  at  the 
came  moment  shot  through  the  heart.  He  fell  among  the 
horses  that  about  the  same  time  were  killed,  and  present- 
ed to  his  afflicted  daughters  and  fellow  travellers,  who 
were  witnesses  of  the  awful  occurrence,  a spectacle  of  hor- 
ror which  we  need  not  further  attempt  to  describe. 

The  boat  was  now  providentially  and  suddenly  carried 
out  into  the  middle  of  the  stream,  and  taken  by  the  cur- 
rent beyond  the  reach  of  the  enemy’s  balls.  Our  little 
band,  reduced  as  they  were  in  numbers,  wounded,  afflicted, 
and  almost  exhausted  by  fatigue,  were  still  unsubdued  in 
spirit,  and  being  assembled  in  all  their  strength,  men, 
women,  and  children,  with  an  appearance  of  triumph  gave 


WILLIAM  HUBBELL.  23f 

three  hearty  cheers,  calling  to  the  Indians  to  come  on 
again  if  they  were  fond  of  the  sport. 

Thus  ended  this  awful  conflict,  in  which  out  of  nine  men, 
two  only  escaped  unhurt.  Tucker  and  Kilpatrick  were 
killed  on  the  spot,  Stoner  was  mortally  wounded  and  died 
on  his  arrival  at  Limestone,  and  all  the  rest,  excepting 
Ray  and  Plascut,  were  severely  wounded.  The  women 
and  children  were  all  uninjured,  excepting  a little  son  of 
Mr.  Plascut,  who,  after  the  battle  was  over,  came  to  the 
captain  and  with  great  coolness  requested  him  to  take  a 
ball  out  of  his  head.  On  examination  it  appeared  that  a 
bullet  which  had  passed  through  the  side  of  the  boat  had 
penetrated  the  forehead  of  this  little  hero,  and  remained 
under  the  skin.  The  captain  took  it  out,  and  the  youth, 
observing,  « that  is  not  all ,”  raised  his  arm,  and  exhibited 
a piece  of  bone  at  the  point  of  his  elbow,  which  had  been 
shot  off  and  hung  only  by  the  skin.  His  mother  exclaim- 
ed, “ why  did  you  not  tell  me  of  this  ?”  “ Because,”  he 

coolly  replied,  « the  captain  directed  us  to  be  silent  during 
the  action,  and  I thought  you  would  be  likely  to  make  a 
noise  if  I told  you.” 

The  boat  made  the  best  of  its  way  down  the  river,  and 
the  object  was  to  reach  Limestone  that  night.  The  cap- 
tain’s arm  had  bled  profusely,  and  he  was  compelled  to 
close  the  sleeve  of  his  coat  in  order  to  retain  the  blood 
and  stop  its  effusion.  In  this  situation,  tormented  by  ex- 
cruciating pain  and  faint  through  loss  of  blood,  he  was 
under  the  necessity  of  steering  the  boat  with  his  left  arm, 
till  about  ten  o’clock  that  night,  when  he  was  relieved  by 
Mr.  William  Brooks,  who  resided  on  the  bank  of  the  river, 
and  who  was  induced  by  the  calls  of  the  suffering  party 
to  come  out  to  their  assistance.  By  his  aid  and  that  of 
some  other  persons  who  were  in  the  same  manner  brought 
to  their  relief,  they  were  enabled  to  reach  Limestone 
about  twelve  o’clock  that  night. 

Immediately  on  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Brooks,  Captain  Hub 
bell,  relieved  from  labor  and  responsibility,  sunk  under 
the  weight  of  pain  and  fatigue,  and  became  for  a while 
totally  insensible.  When  the  boat  reached  Limestone, 
be  found  himself  unable  to  walk,  and  was  obliged  to  be 


238 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


carried  up  to  the  tavern.  Here  he  had  his  wound  dressed 
and  continued  several  days,  until  he  acquired  sufficient 
strength  to  proceed  homewards. 

On  the  arrival  of  our  party  at  Limestone,  they  found  a 
considerable  force  of  armed  men,  about  to  march  against 
the  same  Indians,  from  whose  attacks  they  had  so  severely 
suffered.  They  now'  learned,  that  the  Sunday  preceding, 
the  same  party  of  savages  had  cut  off  a detachment  of 
men  ascending  the  Ohio  from  Fort  Washington  at  the 
mouth  of  Licking  river,  and  had  killed  with  their  toma- 
hawks, without  firing  a gun,  twenty-one  out  of  twenty-two 
raen,  of  which  the  detachment  consisted. 

Crowds  of  people,  as  might  be  expected,  came  to  wit- 
ness the  boat  which  had  been  the  scene  of  so  much  hero- 
ism, and  such  horrid  carnage,  and  to  visit  the  resolute  lit- 
tle band  by  whom  it  had  been  so  gallantly  and  perseve- 
ringly  defended.  On  examination  it  was  found  that  the 
sides  of  the  boat  were  literally  filled  with  bullets  and  with 
bullet  holes.  There  was  scarcely  a space  of  two  feet 
square  in  the  part  above  water,  which  had  not  eitaer  a 
ball  remaining  in  it  or  a hole  through  which  a baa  had 
passed.  Some  persons  who  had  the  curiosity  to  count  the 
number  of  holes  in  the  blankets  w hich  wrere  hung  up  as 
curtains  in  the  stern  of  the  boat,  affirmed  that  in  the  space 
of  five  feet  square  there  w ere  one  hundred  and  twenty 
twTo.  Four  horses  out  of  five  were  killed,  and  the  escape 
of  the  fifth  amidst  such  a shower  of  balls  appears  almost 
miraculous. 

The  day  after  the  arrival  of  Captain  Hubbell  and  his 
companions,  the  five  remaining  boats,  wffiich  they  had 
passed  on  the  night  preceding  the  battle,  reached  Lime- 
stone. Those  on  board  remarked,  that  during  the  action 
they  distinctly  saw  the  flashes,  but  could  not  hear  the  re- 
ports of  the  guns.  The  Indians,  it  appears,  had  met  with 
too  formidable  a resistance  from  a single  boat  to  attack  a 
fleet,  and  suffered  them  to  pass  unmolested:  and  since 
that  time,  it  is  believed  that  no  boat  has  been  assailed  by 
Indians  on  the  Ohio. 

The  force  which  marched  out  to  disperse  this  formida- 
ble body  of  savages,  discovered  several  Indians  dead  on 


NORTHWESTERN  CAMPAIGN. 

the  shore  near  the  scene  of  action.  They  also  found  the 
bodies  of  Captain  Greathouse  and  several  others,  men, 
women  and  children,  who  had  been  on  board  of  his  boat. 
Most  of  them  appeared  to  have  been  whipped  to  death , as 
they  were  found  stripped,  tied  to  trees,  and  marked  with 
the  appearance  of  lashes,  and  large  rods  which  seemed  to 
have  been  worn  with  use  were  observed  lying  near  them. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Heretofore  our  narrative  has  chiefly  been  confined  to 
the  adventures  of  individuals,  or  at  most  to  the  irregular 
forays  of  independent  volunteers.  We  come  now,  how- 
ever, to  events  upon  a large  scale,  and  to  a detail  of  na- 
tional, not  individual  efforts.  Before  entering,  however, 
upon  such  a brief  notice  as  our  limits  will  permit,  of  the 
events  of  the  northwestern  campaign,  it  will  be  necessary 
to  premise  a few  observations  upon  the  causes  of  the  long 
continued  warfare  to  which  the  western  states  were  ex- 
posed, while  those  upon  the  borders  of  the  Atlantic  enjoy- 
ed all  the  blessings  of  peace.  < 

At  the  general  pacification  of  1783,  there  were  several 
stipulations  upon  both  sides,  which  were  not  complied 
with.  Great  Britain  had  agreed,  as  speedily  as  possible, 
to  evacuate  all  the  northwestern  posts,  which  lay  within 
the  boundaries  of  the  United  States;  while,  on  the  ether 
hand,  Congress  had  stipulated  that  no  legal  impediments 
should  be  thrown  in  the  way,  in  order  to  prevent  the  col-  . 
lection  of  debts  due  to  British  merchants  before  the  decla- 
ration of  war.  Large  importations  had  been  made  bv 
American  merchants,  upon  credit , in  1773  and  1774;  and 
as  all  civil  intercourse  between  the  two  countries  had 
ceased  until  the  return  of  peace,  the  British  creditors 
were  unable  to  collect  their  debts.  Upon  the  final  ratify  . 
cation  of  the  treaty,  they  naturally  became  desirous  of 
recovering  their  property,  w hile  their  debtors  as  naturally 
were  desirous  of  avoiding  payment.. 


uo 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


Congress  had  stipulated  that  no  legal  barrier  should  be 
thrown  in  the  way;  but,  as  is  well  known,  Congress, 
under  the  old  confederation,  was  much  more  prolific  in 
“ resolutions,”  or  rather  “recommendations,”  than  acts. 
The  states  might  or  might  not  comply  with  them,  as 
suited  their  convenience.  Accordingly,  when  Congress 
recommended  the  payment  of  all  debts  to  the  state  legis- 
latures, the  legislatures  determined  that  it  was  inexpedi- 
ent to  comply.  The  British  creditor  complained  to  his 
government;  the  government  remonstrated  with  Congress, 
upon  so  flagrant  a breach  of  one  of  the  articles  of  paci- 
fication ; Congress  appealed  to  the  legislatures ; the  legis- 
latures were  deaf  and  obstinate,  and  there  the  matter 
rested.  When  the  question  was  agitated,  as  to  the  evac- 
uation of  the  posts,  the  British,  in  turn,  became  refrac- 
tory, and*  determined  to  hold  them  until  the  acts  of  the 
state  legislatures,  preventing  the  legal  collection  of  debts, 
were  repealed.  Many  remonstrances  were  exchanged, 
but  all  to  no  purpose. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  Indians  were  supplied,  as  usual, 
by  the  British  agents,  and  if  not  openly  encouraged,  were 
undoubtedly  secretly  countenanced,  in  their  repeated  dep 
redations  upon  the  frontier  inhabitants.  These,  at  length 
became  so  serious,  as  to  demand  the  notice  of  government 
Accordingly,  in  the  autumn  of  1790,  General  Harmei 
was  detached  at  the  head  of  three  hundred  regular  troops, 
and  more  than  one  thousand  militia,  with  orders  to  march 
upon  their  towns  bordering  upon  the  lakes,  and  inflict  upon 
them  such  signal  chastisement  as  should  deter  them  from 
future  depredations.  On  the  20th  of  September,  the 
various  troops,  designed  for  the  expedition,  rendezvoused 
at  Fort  Washington,  now  Cincinnati,  and  on  the  following 
day  commenced  their  march  to  the  Miami  villages.  The 
country  was  rough,  swampy,  and  in  many  places  almost 
impassable,  so  that  seventeen  days  were  consumed  before 
the  main  body  could  come  within  striking  distance  of  the 
enemy.  In  the  mean  time,  the  great  scarcity  of  provis 
ions  rendered  it  necessary  for  the  general  to  sweep  the 
forest  with  numerous  small  detachments,  and  the  wood# 


NORTHWESTERN  CAMPAIGN.  241 

warmed  with  roving  bands  of  Indians,  most  of  these 
parties  were  cut  off. 

At  length,  the  main  body,  considerably  reduced  by  this 
petty  warfare,  came  within  a few  miles  of  their  towns. 
Here  the  general  ordered  Captain  Armstrong,  at  the  head 
of  thirty  regulars,  and  Colonel  Hardin  of  Kentucky,  with 
one  hundred  and  fifty  militia,  to  advance  and  reconnoiter. 
In  the  execution  of  this  order  they  suddenly  found  them 
ielves  in  the  presence  of  a superior  number  of  Indians 
who  suddenly  arose  from  the  bushes  and  opened  a heavy 
fire  upon  them.  The  militia  instantly  gave  way,. while 
the  regulars,  accustomed  to  more  orderly  movements, 
attempted  a regular  retreat.  The  enemy  rushed  upon 
them  tomahawk  in  hand,  and  completely  surrounded  them. 
The  regulars  attempted  to  open  a passage  with  the 
bayonet,  but  in  vain.  They  were  all  destroyed’Vith  the 
exception  of  their  captain  and  one  Lieutenant. 

Captain  Armstrong  was  remarkably  stout  and  active, 
and  succeeded  in  breaking  through  the  enemy’s  line, 
although  not  without  receiving  several  severe  wounds. 
Finding  himself  hard  pressed,  he  plunged  into  a deep  and 
miry  swamp,  where  he  lay  concealed  during  the  whole 
night  within  two  hundred  yards  of  the  Indian  camp,  and 
witnessed  the  dances  and  joyous  festivity  with  which  they 
celebrated  their  victory.  The  lieutenant  (Haitshorn,) 
escaped  by  accidentally  stumbling  over  a log,  and  falling 
into  a pit,  where  he  lay  concealed  by  the  rank  grass 
which  grew  around  him.  The  loss  of  the  militia  was  very 
trifling.  Notwithstanding  this  severe  check,  Harmer  ad- 
vanced with  the  main  body  upon  their  villages,  which  he 
found  deserted  and  in  flames,  the  Indians  having  fired 
them  with  their  own  hands.  Here  he  found  several  hun- 
dred acres  of  corn,  which  was  completely  destroyed.  He 
then  advanced  upon  the  adjoining  villages,  which  he 
found  deserted  and  burned  as  the  first  had  been.  Having 
destroyed  all  the  corn  which  he  found,  the  army  con> 
menced  its  retreat  from  the  Indian  country,  supposing  th» 
enemy  sufficiently  intimidated. 

After  marching  about  ten  miles  on  the  homeward 
route,  General  Harmer  received  information  which  indi> 


£42  "WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 

ced  him  to  suppose  that  a body  of  Indians  had  returned 
and  taken  possession  of  the  village  which  he  had  just 
left.  He  detached,  therefore,  eighty  regular  troops  under 
the  orders  of  Major  Wyllys,  and  nearly  the  whole  of  his 
militia  under  Colonel  Harden,  with  orders  to  return  to  the 
village  and  destroy  such  of  the  enemy  as  presented  them- 
selves. The  detachment  accordingly  countermarched 
and  proceeded  with  all  possible  despatch  to  the  appointed 
spot,  fearful  only  fnat  the  enemy  might  hear  of  their 
movement  and  escape  before  they  could  come  up.  The 
militia  in  loose  order  took  the  advance;  the  regulars 
moving  in  a hollow  square  brought  up  the  rear.  Upon 
the  plain  in  front  of  the  town,  a number  of  Indians  were 
seen,  between  whom  and  the  militia  a sharp  action  com- 
menced. After  a few  rounds,  with  considerable  effect 
upon  both  sides,  the  savages  fled  in  disorder,  and  were 
eagerly  and  impetuously  pursued  by  the  militia,  who  in 
the  ardor  of  the  chase  were  drawn  into  the  woods  to  a 
considerable  distance  from  the  regulars. 

Suddenly  from  the  opposite  quarter  several  hundred 
Indians  appeared,  rushing  with  loud  yells  upon  the  unsup- 
ported regulars.  Major  Wyllys,  who  was  a brave  and 
experienced  officer,  formed  his  men  in  a square,  and  en- 
deavored to  gain  a more  favorable  spot  of  ground,  but 
was  prevented  by  the  desperate  impetuosity  with  which 
the  enemy  assailed  him.  Unchecked  by  ffie  murderous 
fire  which  was  poured  upon  them  from  the  different  sides 
of  the  square,  they  rushed  in  masses  up  to  the  points  of 
the  bayonets,  hurled  their  tomahawks  with  fatal  accuracy, 
and  putting  aside  the  bayonets  with  their  hands,  or  clog- 
ging them  with  their  bodies,  they  were  quickly  mingled 
with  the  troops,  and  handled  their  long  knives  with  des- 
tructive effect.  In  two  minutes  the  bloody  struggle  was 
over.  Major  Wyllys  fell,  together  with  seventy-three 
privates  and  one  lieutenant.  One  captain,  one  ensign, 
and  seven  privates,  three  of  whom  were  wounded,  were 
the  sole  survivors  of  this  short  but  desperate  encounter. 

The  Indian  loss  was  nearly  equal,  as  they  sustained 
several  heavy  fires  which  the  closeness  of  their  masses 
rendered  very  destructive,  and  as  they  rushed  upon  the 


NORTHWESTERN  CAMPAIGN. 


243 


bayonets  of  the  troops  with  the  most  astonishing  disregard 
to  their  own  safety.  Their  object  was  to  overwhelm  the 
regulars  before  the  militia  could  return  to  their  support, 
and  it  was  as  boldly  executed  as  it  had  been  finely  con- 
ceived. In  a short  time  the  militia  returned  from  the 
pursuit  of  the  flying  party  which  had  decoyed  them  to  a 
distance;  but  it  was  now  too  late  to  retrieve  the  fortune 
of  the  day.  After  some  sharp  skirmishing,  they  effected 
their  retreat  to  the  main  body,  with  the  loss  of  one  hun- 
dred and  eight  killed  and  twenty-eight  wounded.  This 
dreadful  slaughter  so  reduced  the  strength  and  spirits  of 
Harmer’s  army,  that  he  was  happy  in  being  permitted  to 
retreat  unmolested,  having  totally  failed  in  accomplishing 
the  objects  of  the  expedition,  and  by  obstinately  persever- 
ing in  the  ruinous  plan  of  acting  in  detachments,  having 
thrown  away  the  lives  of  more  than  half  of  his  regular 
force.  This  abortive  expedition  served  only  to  encourage 
the  enemy,  and  to  give  additional  rancor  to  their  incursions. 

Before  detailing  the  important  events  which  followed, 
however,  we  shall  pause  for  a few  moments  to  dwell  upon 
the  singular  adventure  of  an  individual  who  attended 
Harmer  in  his  expedition.  Jackson  Johonnet  was  born 
in  Connecticut  in  ]\jay,  1774.  His  father  was  a farmer, 
and  managed,  upon  a very  small  and  by  no  means  fertile 
farm,  to  bring  up  a large  family  with  credit  and  decency. 
Jackson,  the  eldest  son,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  became  de- 
sirous of  engaging  in  some  business  upon  his  own  account, 
and  as  his  father  could  well  spare  his  labor  upon  the  farm, 
he  took  leave  of  his  family  in  the  spring  of  1790,  and  em- 
barked on  board  of  a coasting  schooner  for  Boston.  Hav 
ing  arrived  in  this  large  city,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life  finding  himself  without  friends,  money,  or  employment 
of  any  kind,  he  began  to  entertain  some  uncomfortable  ap- 
prehensions of  want.  After  wandering  through  the  streets 
for  several  days,  with  a very  disconsolate  air,  he  was  at 
length  accosted  by  a dexterous  recruiting  officer,  who  see- 
ing him  to  be  a perfect  greenhorn,  determined  to  enlist 
him  if  he  could. 

Accosting  him  with  great  frankness,  he  soon  became 
acquainted  with  his  real  condition,  and  after  some  prelim- 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


244 

inary  observations  upon  the  gaiety,  recklessness,  and 
happiness  of  a soldier’s  life,  he  proposed  that  he  should 
enlist  in  his  company,  and  march  out  to  the  west,  assuring 
him  that  if  he  was  active  and  diligent,  he  would  make  an 
immense  fortune  in  one  year.  Jackson  at  first  shrunk 
from  the  idea  of  u enlisting,”  but  his  imagination  became 
gradually  heated  at  the  glowing  description  of  the  fertility 
of  the  western  country,  and  the  facility  with  which  land 
could  be  acquired  to  any  extent  by  a successful  soldier. 
He  finally  promised  him  a sergeant’s  commission  on  the 
spot,  and  held  out  to  him  the  prospect  of  a lieutenancy  in 
case  of  good  behavior.  Jackson  at  length  yielded  to  the 
eloquence  of  this  modern  Kite,  and  in  a few  days  found 
nimself  on  the  road  to  Pittsburgh,  and  highly  charmed 
with  his  martial  appearance,  when  arrayed  in  the  uniform 
of  his  corps. 

Embarking  on  board  of  a flat  boat  at  Pittsburgh,  he  des- 
cended the  'Ohio  as  far  as  Fort  Washington,  (Cincinnati,) 
where  he  found  his  regiment  preparing  to  accompany  Har- 
mer.  A few  days  after  his  arrival,  the  march  commenced. 
Here  he,  for  the  first  time,  awoke  from  the  pleasant  dream 
in  which  he  had  indulged.  He  had  thought  that  war  was 
a succession  of  battles  and  triumphs,  leading  naturally  to 
wealth  and  glory.  Splendid  uniforms',  gay  music,  waving 
plumes,  and  showy  parades,  had  floated  in  splendid  confu- 
sion before  his  fancy,  until  the  march  commenced.  He 
now  found  that  war  was  made  up  of  dreadful  fatigue,  con- 
stant exposure  to  all  weather,  hard  words  and  harder 
blows  from  his  superiors,  and  the  whole  crowned  by  the 
constant  gnawings  of  hunger  without  the  means  of  satis- 
fying it. 

On  the  tenth  day  of  their  march,  (having  been  promot- 
ed to  the  rank  of  sergeant,)  he  was  detached  upon  an  ex 
ploring  expedition,  at  the  head  of  ten  regular  soldiers 
Being  all  equally  ignorant  of  Indian  warfare,  they  were 
quickly  decoyed  into  an  ambuscade,  and  made  prisoners 
by  a party  of  Kickapoo  Indians.  Having  been  bound  and 
secured  in  the  usual  manner,  they  were  driven  before  the 
captors  like  a herd  of  bullocks,  and  with  scarcely  a morsel 
of  food,  were  forced  to  make  the  most  exhausting  marches 


NORTHWESTERN  CAMPAIGN. 


245 

in  the  direction  of  the  Kickapoo  village.  On  the  second 
day,  George  Aikins,  one  of  his  companions,  a native  of 
Ireland,  was  unable  to  endure  his  sufferings  any  longer, 
and  sunk  under  his  pack  in  the  middle  of  the  path.  They 
instantly  scalped  him  as  he  lay,  and  stripping  him  naked, 
pricked  him  with  their  knives  in  the  most  sensitive  parts 
of  the  body,  until  they  had  aroused  him  to  a consciousness 
of  his  situation,  when  they  tortured  him  to  death  in  the 
usual  manner. 

The  march  then  recommenced,  and  the  wretched  pris- 
oners, faint  and  famished  as  they  were,  were  so  shocked 
at  the  fate  of  their  companion,  that  they  bore  up  for  eight 
days  under  all  their  sufferings.  On  the  ninth,  however, 
they  reached  a small  village,  where  crowds  of  both  sexes 
came  out  to  meet  them,  with  shrieks  and  yells,  which  fill- 
ed them  with  terror.  Here  they  were  compelled,  as  usual, 
to  run  the  gauntlet,  and  as  they  were  much  worn  down  by 
hunger  and  fatigue,  four  of  the  party,  viz:  Durgee,  For* 
sythe,  Deloy,  and  Benton,  all  of  New  England,  were  una- 
ble to  reach  the  council  house,  but  fainted  in  the  midst  of 
the  course.  The  boys  and  squaws  instantly  fell  upon 
them,  and  put  them  to  death  by  torture. 

Here  they  remained  in  close  confinement,  and  upon 
very  scanty  diet  for  several  days,  in  the  course  of  which 
the  news  of  Harmer’s  defeat  arrived.  Piles  of  scalps, 
together  with  canteens,  sashes,  military  hats,  &c.  were 
brought  into  the  village,  and  several  white  women  and 
children  were  taken  through  the  town  on  their  way  to 
the  villages  farther  west.  At  the  same  time,  four  more 
of  his  companions  were  led  off  to  the  western  villages, 
and  never  heard  of  afterwards.  Himself  and  a corporal, 
named  Sackville,  were  now  the  only  survivors.  They 
remained  in  close  confinement  two  weeks  longer.  Their 
rations  were  barely  sufficient  to  sustain  life,  and  upon  the 
receipt  of  any  unpleasant  intelligence,  they  were  taken 
out,  whipped  severely,  and  compelled  to  run  the  gauntlet. 

At  length,  on  the  fourteenth  night  of  their  confinement, 
they  determined  to  make  an  effort  to  escape.  Sackville 
had  concealed  a sharp  penknife  in  a secret  pocket,  which 
the  Indians  had  been  unable  to  discover.  They  were 


346 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


guarded  by  four  warriors  and  one  old  hag  of  seventy, 
whose  temper  was  as  crooked  as  her  person.  The  prison- 
ers having  been  securely  bound,  the  warriors  lay  down 
about  midnight  to  sleep,  ordering  the  old  squaw  to  sit  up 
during  the  rest  of  the  night.  Their  guns  stood  in  the 
corner  of  the  hut,  and  their  tomahawks,  as  usual,  were  at- 
tached to  their  sides.  Their  hopes  of  escape  were  founded 
upon  the  probability  of  eluding  the  vigilance  of  the  hag, 
cutting  their  cords,  and  either  avoiding  or  destroying  their 
guard.  The  snoring  of  the  warriors  quickly  announced 
them  asleep,  and  the  old  squaw  hung  in  a drowsy  attitude 
over  the  fire.  Sackville  cautiously  cut  his  own  cords, 
and  after  a few  minutes  delay,  succeeded  in  performing 
the  same  office  for  Jackson. 

But  their  work  was  scarcely  begun  yet.  It  was  abso- 
lutely necessary  that  the  old  squaw  should  fall  asleep,  or 
be  silenced  in  some  other  way!  before  they  could  either 
leave  the  hut,  or  attack  the  sleeping  warriors.  They 
waited  impatiently  for  half  an  hour,  but  perceiving  that 
although  occasionally  dozing,  she  would  rouse  herself  at 
short  intervals,  and  regard  them  suspiciously,  they  ex- 
changed looks  of  intelligence,  (being  afraid  even  to  whis- 
per,) and  prepared  for  the  decisive  effort.  Jackson  sud- 
denly sprung  up  as  silently  as  possible,  and  grasping  tho 
old  woman  by  the  throat,  drew  her  head  back  with  vio 
fence,  when  Sackville,  who  had  watched  his  movements 
attentively,  instantly  cut  her  throat  from  ear  to  ear.  A 
short  gurgling  moan  was  the  only  sound  which  escaped 
her,  as  the  violence  with  which  Jackson  grasped  her 
throat,  effectually  prevented  her  speaking. 

The  sleepers  were  not  awakened,  although  they  appear- 
ed somewhat  disturbed  at  the  noise,  and  the  two  adven- 
turers, seizing  each  a rifle,  struck  at  the  same  moment 
with  such  fury  as  to  disable  two  of  their  enemies.  The 
other  two  instantly  sprung  to  their  feet,  but  before  they 
could  draw  their  tomahawks  or  give  the  alarm,  they  were 
prostrated  by  the  blows  of  the  white  men,  who  attacked 
them  at  the  momervt  that  they  had  gained  their  feet 
Their  enemies,  although  stunned,  were  not  yet  dead 
They  drew  their  tomahawks  from  their  sides,  therefore. 


NORTHWESTERN  CAMPAIGN. 


247 


and  striking  each  Indian  repeatedly  upon  the  head,  com- 
pleted the  work  by  piercing  the  heart  of  each  with  hia 
own  scalping  knife.  Selecting  two  rifles  from  the  corner, 
together  with  their  usual  appendages,  and  taking  such  pro- 
visions as  the  hut  afforded,  they  left  the  village  as  rapidly 
as  possible,  and  fervently  invoking  the  protection  of 
heaven,  committed  themselves  to  the  wilderness. 

Neither  of  them  were  good  woodsmen,  nor  were  either 
of  them  expert  hunters.  They  attempted  a southeastern 
course,  however,  as  nearly  as  they  could  ascertain  it,  but 
were  much  embarrassed  by  the  frequent  recurrence  of 
impassable  bogs,  which  compelled  them  to  change  their 
course,  and  greatly  retarded  their  progress.  Knowing 
that  the  pursuit  would  be  keen  and  persevering,  they  re- 
sorted to  every  method  of  baffling  their  enemies.  They 
waded  down  many  streams,  and  occasionally  surmounted 
rocky  precipices,  which,  under  other  circumstances,  no- 
thing could  have  induced  .them  to  attempt.  Their  suffer- 
ings from  hunger  were  excessive,  as  they  were  so  indif- 
ferently skilled  in  hunting,  as  to  be  unable  to  kill  a suf- 
ficient quantity  of  game,  although  the  woods  abounded 
with  deer,  beaver,  and  buffalo. 

On  the  fourth  day,  about  10  o’clock,  A.  M.  they  came 
to  a fine  spring,  where  they  halted  and  determined  to  pre- 
pare their  breakfast.  Before  kindling  a fire,  however, 
Sackville,  either  upon  some  vague  suspicion  of  the  prox- 
imity of  an  enemy,  or  from  some  other  cause,  thought 
proper  to  ascend  an  adjoining  hillock  and  reconnoiter  the 
ground  around  the  spring.  No  measure  was  ever  more 
providential.  Jackson  presently  beheld  him  returning 
cautiously  and  silently  to  the  spring,  and  being  satisfied 
from  his  manner  that  danger  was  at  hand,  he  held  his  rifle 
in  readiness  for  action  at  a moment’s  warning.  Sackville 
presently  rejoined  him  with  a countenance  in  which  anxi- 
ety and  resolution  were  strikingly  blended.  Jackson  ea- 
gerly inquired  the  cause  of  his  alarm.  His  companion,  in 
a low  voice,  replied  that  they  were  within  one  hundred 
yards  of  four  Indian  warriors,  who  were  reposing  upon  the 
bank  of  the  little  rivulet  on  the  other  side  of  the  hillock. 
That  they  were  about  kindling  a fire  in  order  to  prepare 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


248 

their  breakfast,  and  that  two  white  men  lay  bound  hand 
and  foot  within  twenty  feet  of  them. 

He  added  that  they  were  evidently  prisoners,  exposed 
to  the  same  dreadful  fate  which  they  had  just  escaped;  and 
concluded  by  declaring,  that  if  Jackson  would  stand  by 
him  faithfully,  he  was  determined  to  rescue  them  or  perish 
in  the  attempt.  Jackson  gave  him  his  hand  and  express- 
ed his  readiness  to  accompany  him.  Sackville  then  looked 
carefully  to  the  priming  of  his  gun,  loosened  his  knife  in 
the  sheath,  and  desired  Jackson  to  follow  him,  without 
making  the  slightest  noise.  They,  accordingly,  moved  in 
a stooping  posture  up  a small  and  bushy  ravine,  which 
conducted  them  to  the  top  of  the  gentle  hill.  When  near 
the  summit,  they  threw  themselves  flat  upon  the  ground, 
and  crawled  into  a thick  cluster  of  whortleberry  bushes, 
from  which  they  had  a fair  view  of  the  enemy.  The  In- 
dians had  not  changed  their  position,  but  one  of  the  white 
men  was  sitting  up,  and  displayed  the  countenance  of  a 
young  man,  apparently  about  twenty-five,  pale,  haggard, 
and  exhausted.  Two  Indians,  with  uplifted  tomahawks^ 
sat  within  three  feet  of  him.  One  lay  at  full  length  upon 
the  ground,  while  the  remaining  one  was  in  the  act  of 
lighting  a fire. 

Sackville  cocked  his  gun,  and  in  a low  voice  directed 
Jackson  to  fire  at  one  of  the  guards  who,  from  the  quan- 
tity of  beads  and  silver  about  his  head,  appeared  to  be  a 
chief,  while  he  selected  the  other  guard  for  a mark.  Each 
presented  at  the  same  moment,  took  a steady  aim  and 
fired.  Both  Indians  fell — the  chief  shot  dead,  the  other 
mortally  wounded.  The  other  two  Indians  squatted  in 
the  grass  like  terrified  partridges^  when  the  hawk  hovers 
over  them,  and  lay  still  and  motionless.  Sackville  and 
Jackson  reloaded  their  guns  as  rapidly  as  possible,  and 
shifted  their  position  a few  paces  in  order  to  obtain  a bet- 
ter view  of  the  enemy.  In  the  mean  time  the  two  Indians 
cautiously  elevated  their  heads  above  the  grass,  and  glanc- 
ed rapidly  around  in  order  to  observe  from  what  quarter 
the  fatal  shots  were  discharged.  The  thin  wreaths  of 
smoke  which  curled  abc^e  the  bushes  where  our  adven- 
turers lay,  betrayed  their  hiding  place  to  the  enemy 


NORTHWESTERN  CAMPAIGN. 


249 


Before  they  could  take  advantage  of  it,  however,  they 
were  ready  to  fire  again,  and  this  second  volley  proved 
fatal  to  one  of  their  enemies  who  lay  without  motion,  but 
the  other  was  only  slightly  wounded,  and  endeavored  to 
reach  the  bushes  upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  brook. 

Sackville  and  Jackson  now  sprung  to  their  feet  and 
rushed  upon  him,  but  the  desperate  savage  shot  Sackville 
through  the  heart  as  he  advanced,  and  flourished  his  toma- 
hawk so  menacingly  at  Jackson,  that  he  was  compelled  to 
pause  and  reload  his  gun.  The  savage  seized  this  oppor- 
tunity to  grasp  the  two  rifles  belonging  to  the  Indians  who 
had  been  first  killed,  and  Jackson  in  consequence  was 
compelled  to  retreat  to  the  friendly  shelter  of  the  bushes, 
which  he  had  too  hastily  abandoned.  At  this  instant,  the 
two  prisoners  having  burst  the  cords  which  confined  them, 
sprung  to  their  feet  and  ran  towards  the  bushes  for  pro- 
tection. Before  they  could  reach  them,  however,  the 
Indian  shot  one  dead,  and  fired  his  last  gun  at  the  other 
but  without  effect.  Jackson  having  reloaded  again  fired 
upon  their  desperate  enemy  and  wounded  him  in  the  neck 
from  which  he  could  see  the  blood  spouting  in  a stream. 
Nothing  daunted,  the  Indian  rapidly  reloaded  his  gun  and 
again  fired  without  effect. 

The  prisoner  who  had  escaped,  now  seized  Sackville’s 
gun  and  he  and  Johonnet  having  reloaded,  once  more  left 
the  bushes  and  advanced  upon  their  wounded  enemy.  The 
savage,  although  much  exhausted  from  loss  of  blood,  sat 
up  at  their  approach  and  flourishing  a tomahawk  in  each 
hand  seemed  at  least  determined  to  die  game.  Johonnet 
was  anxious  to  take  him  alive,  but  was  prevented  by  his 
companion  who  levelling  his  gun  as  he  advanced  shot  his 
adversary  through  the  head,  and  thus  put  an  end  to  the 
conflict.  It  was  a melancholy  victory  to  the  survivors. 
Johonnet  had  lost  his  gallant  comrade,  and  the  rescued 
white  man  had  to  lament  the  death  of  his  fellow  captive. 
The  last  Indian  had  certainly  inflicted  a heavy  penalty 
upon  his  enemies,  and  died  amply  revenged.  The  rescu- 
ed prisoner  proved  to  be  George  Sexton,  of  Newport, 
Rhode  Island,  a private  in  Harmer’s  army. 

Fortunately  for  Johonnet,  his  new  comrade  was  an  ©>■ 


250 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


cellent  woodsman,  and  very  readily  informed  his  deliverer 
of  their  present  situation,  and  of  the  proper  course  to  steer. 
He  said  that,  in  company  with  three  others  he  had  been 
taken  by  a party  of  Wabash  Indians,  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Fort  Jefferson;  that  two  of  his  comrades  having  sunk 
under  their  sufferings,  had  been  tomahawked  and  scalped 
upon  the  spot;  that  himself  and  his  dead  companion  had 
been  in  hourly  expectation  of  a similar  fate ; and  conclud- 
ed, with  the  warmest  expressions  of  gratitude  for  the  gal- 
lantry with  which  he  had  been  rescued.  So  lively,  indeed, 
was  his  sense  of  obligation,  that  he  would  not  permit  Jack- 
son  to  carry  his  own  baggage,  nor  would  he  suffer  him  to 
watch  more  than  three  hours  in  ^the  twenty-four.  On  the 
following  day,  they  fortunately  fell  in  with  a small  de- 
tachment from  Fort  Jefferson,  by  which  they  were  safely 
conducted  to  the  fort.  Here  Jackson  remained  until  sum- 
moned to  attend  St.  Clair,  in  his  disastrous  expedition 
against  the  same  Miami  villages  where  he  had  lately 
suffered  so  much. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

We  now  come  to  one  of  the  heaviest  disasters  wmch 
occurs  in  the  annals  of  Indian  warfare.  The  failure  of 
Harmer  made  a deep  impression  upon  the  American  na- 
tion, and  was  followed  by  a loud  demand  for  a greater 
force,  under  the  command  of  a more  experienced  general. 
General  Arthur  St.  Cuair  was,  at  that  time,  governor 
of  the  northwestern  territory,  and  had  a claim  to  the 
command  of  such  forces- as  should  be  employed  within  Ilia 
own  limits.  This  gentleman  had  uniformly  ranked  high 
as  an  officer  of  courage  and  patriotism,  but  had  been  more 
uniformly  unfortunate  than  any  other  officer  in  the  Ameri- 
can service.  He  had  commanded  at  Ticonderoga  in  the 
spring  of  1777,  and  had  conducted  one  of  the  most  disas- 
trous retreats  which  occurred  during  the  revolutionary 
war..  Notwithstanding  his  repeated  misfortunes,  he  atili 


ARTHUR  ST.  CLAIR. 


251 

commanded  the  respect  of  his  brother  officers,  and  the  un- 
diminished confidence  of  Washington.  He  was  now  se- 
lected as  the  person  most  capable  of  restoring  the  Ameri- 
can affairs  in  the  North  West,  and  was  placed  at  the  head 
of  a regular  force,  amounting  to  near  fifteen  hundred 
men,  well  furnished  with  artillery,  and  was  empowered  to 
call  out  such  reinforcements  of  militia  as  might  be  neces- 
sary. Cincinnati,  as  usual,  was  the  place  of  rendezvous. 

In  October,  1791,  an  army  was  assembled  at  that  place, 
greatly  superior,  in  numbers,  officers,  and  equipments*  to 
any  which  hid  yet  appeared  in  the  west.  The  regular 
force  was  composed  of  three  complete  regiments  of  infan- 
try, two  companies  of  artillery,  and  one  of  cavalry.  The 
militia  who  joined  him  at  Fort  Washington,  amounted  to 
upwards  of  six  hundred  men,  most  of  whom  had  long  been 
accustomed  to  Indian  warfare.  The  general  commenced 
his  march  from  Cincinnati  on  the of  October,  and  fol- 

lowing the  route  of  Harmer,  arrived  at  Fort  Jefferson 
without  material  loss,  although  not  without  having  sus- 
tained much  inconvenience  from  scarcity  of  provisions. 
The  Kentucky  rangers,  amounting  to  upwards  of  two  hun- 
dred men,  had  encountered  several  small  parties  of  Indians, 
but  no  serious  affair  had  as  yet  taken  place.  Shortly  af- 
ter leaving  Fort  Jefferson*  one  of  the  militia  regiments, 
with  their  usual  disregard  to  discipline,  determined  that  it 
was  inexpedient  to  proceed  farther,  and  detaching  them- 
selves from  the  main  body,  returned  rapidly  to  the  fort  on 
their  way  home.  This  ill-timed  mutiny,  not  only  discour- 
aged the  remainder,  but  compelled  the  general  to  detach 
the  first  regiment  in  pursuit  of  them,  if  not  to  bring  them 
hack,  at  least  to  prevent  them  from  injuring  the  stores, 
collected  at  the  fort  for  the  use  of  the  army.  With  the 
remainder  of  the  troops,  amounting  in  all  to  about  twelve 
hundred  men,  he  continued  his  march  to  the  great  Miami 
villages. 

On  the  evening  of  the  3d  of  November,  he  encamped 
upon  a very  commanding  piece  of  ground,  upon  the  bank 
of  one  of  the  tributaries  of  the  Wabash,  where  he  deter 
mined  to  throw  up  some  slight  works  for  the  purpose  of 
protecting  their  knapsacks  and  baggage,  having  to  mov& 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


252 

upon  the  Miami  villages,  supposed  to  be  within  twelve 
miles,  as  soon  as  the  first  regiment  should  rejoin  them.  The 
remainder  of  the  evening  was  employed  in  concerting  the 
plan  of-  the  proposed  work  with  Major  Furguson  of  the 
engineers,  and  when  the  centries  were  posted  at  night, 
every  thing  was  as  quiet  as  could  have  been  desired.  The 
troops  were  encamped  in  two  lines,  with  an  interval  of 
seventy  yards  between  them,  which  was  all  that  the  na- 
ture of  the  ground  would  permit.  The  battalions  of  Ma- 
jors Butler,  Clarke,  and  Patterson,  composed  the  front 
line,  the  whole  under  the  orders  of  Major  General  Butler, 
an  officer  of  high  and  merited  reputation.  The  front  of 
the  line  was  covered  by  a creek,  its  right  flank  by  the 
river,  and  its  left  by  a strong  corps  of  infantry.  The 
second  line  was  composed  of  the  battalions  of  Majors 
Gaither  and  Bedinger,  and  the  second  regiment  under  the 
command  of  Lieutenant  Colonel  Darke.  This  line,  like 
the  other,  was  secured  upon  one  flank  by  the  river,  and 
upon  the  other  by  the  cavalry  and  pickets.*  The  nighi 
passed  away  without  alarm.  The  sentinels  were  vigil- 
ant,! and  the  officers  upon  the  alert. 

A few  hours  before  day,  St.  Clair  caused  the  reveillie 
to  be  beaten,  and  the  troops  to  be  paraded  under  arms, 
under  the  expectation  that  an  attack  would  probably  be 
made.  In  fhis  situation,  they  continued  until  daylight, 
when  they  were  dismissed  to  their  tents.  Some  w ere  en- 
deavoring to  snatch  a few  minutes’  sleep,  others  were 
preparing  for  the  expected  march,  when  suddenly  the  re- 
port of  a rifle  was  heard  from  the  militia  a few  hundred 


* The  militia  amounting  to  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  mefj, 
were  thrown  across  the  creek  about  three  hundred  yards  in  front 
©f  the  first  line,  and  a small  detachment  of  regulars  under  the  orders 
of  Captain  Slough,  were  pushed  still  further  in  advance,  in  order  to 
prevent  the  possibility  of  surprise. 

\ Captain  Slough  was  alarmed  in  the  course  of  the  night  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  an  unusual  number  of  the  enemy  in  his  front  and  upon 
both  flanks.  A short  time  before  day  they  had  collected  in  such  num- 
bers as  seriously  to  alarm  him,  and  induced  him  to  fall  back  upon  the 
militia.  He  instantly  informed  General  Butler  of  the  circumstance, 
but  that  officer,  unfortunately,  slighted  the  intelligence,  and  did  not 
deem  it  of  sufficient  importance  to  inform  the  commander-in-chiefi 


ARTHUR  ST.  CLAIR. 


28? 

yards  in  front,  which  was  quickly  followed  by  a sharp  ir- 
regular volley  in  the  same  direction.  The  drums  instantly 
beat  to  arms,  the  officers  flew  in  every  direction,  and  in 
two  minutes  the  troops  were  formed  in  order  of  battle* 
Presently  the  militia  rushed  into  the  camp,  in  the  utmost 
disorder,  closely  pursued  by  swarms  of  Indians,  who,  in 
many  places,  were  mingled  with  them,  and  were  cutting 
them  down  with  their  tomahawks. 

Major  Butler’s  battalion  received  the  first  shock,  and 
was  thrown  into  disorder  by  the  tumultuous  flight  of  the 
militia,  who,  in  their  eagerness  to  escape,  bore  down  every 
thing  before  them.  Here  Major  General  Butler  had  sta- 
tioned himself,  and  here  St.  Clair  directed  his  attention, 
in  order  to  remedy  the  confusion  which  began  to  spread 
rapidly  through  the  whole  line.  The  Indians  pressed  for- 
ward with  great  audacity,  and  many  of  them  were  min- 
gled with  the  troops,  before  their  progress  could  be 
checked.  Major  General  Butler  was  wounded  at  the  first 
fire,  and  before  his  wound  could  be  dressed,  an  Indian 
who  had  penetrated  the  ranks  of  the  regiment,  ran  up  to 
the  spot  where  he  lay,  and  tomahawked  him  before  his  at- 
tendants could  interpose.  The  desperate  savage  was  in 
stantly  killed.  By  great  exertions,  Butler’s  battalion 
was  restored  to  order,  and  the  heavy  and  sustained  fire  of 
the  first  line  compelled  the  enemy  to  pause  and  shelter 
themselves. 

This  interval,  however,  endured  but  for  a moment.  An 
invisible  but  tremendous  fire,  quickly  opened  upon  the 
whole  front  of  the  encampment,  which  rapidly  extended 
to  the  rear,  and  encompassed  the  troops  on  both  sides. 
St.  Clair,  who  at  that  time,  was  worn  down  by  a fever, 
and  unable  to  mount  his  horse,  nevertheless,  as  is  univer- 
sally admitted,  exerted  himself  with  a courage  and  pres- 
ence of  mind  worthy  of  a better  fate.  He  instantly 
directed  his  litter  to  the  right  of  the  rear  line,  where  the 
great  weight  of  fire  fell,  and  where  the  slaughter,  par- 
ticularly of  the  officers,  was  terrible.  Here  Darke  com- 
manded, an  officer  who  had  been  trained  to  hard  service, 
during  the  revolutionary  war,  and  who  was  now  gallantly 
exerting  himself  to  check  the  consternation  which  waa 


254 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE, 


evidently  beginning  to  prevail.  St.  Clair  ordered  him  to 
make  a rapid  charge  with  the  bayonet,  and  rouse  the 
enemy  from  their  covert. 

The  order  was  instantly  obeyed,  and,  at  first,  appa- 
rently writh  great  effect.  Swarms  of  dusky  bodies  arose 
from  the  high  grass,  and  fled  before  the  regiment  with 
every  mark  of  consternation;  but  as  the  troops  were  una- 
ble to  overtake  them,  they  quickly  recovered  their  cour- 
age, and  kept  up  so  fatal  a retreating  fire,  that  the  ex- 
hausted regulars  were  compelled,  in  their  turn,  to  give 
way.  This  charge,  however,  relieved  that  particular 
point  for  some  time;  but  the  weight  of  the  fire  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  centre  of  the  first  line,  where  it  threatened 
to  annihilate  every  thing  within  its  range.  There,  in 
turn,  the  unfortunate  general  was  borne  by  his  attendants, 
and  ordered  a second  appeal  to  the  bayonet.  Thi» 
second  charge  was  made  with  the  same  impetuosity  al 
first,  and  with  the  same  momentary  success.  But  tho 
attack  was  instantly  shifted  to  another  point,  where  tho 
same  charge  was  made  and  the  same  result  followed. 
The  Indians  would  retire  before  them,  still  keeping  up  a 
most  fatal  fire,  and  the  continentals  were  uniformly  com 
pelled  to  retire  in  turn.  St.  Clair,  brought  up  the  artil- 
lery in  order  to  sweep  the  bushes  with  grape,  but  the 
horses  and  artillerymen  were  destroyed  by  the  terrible 
fire  of  the  enemy,  before  any  effect  could  be  produced. 
They  were  instantly  manned  afresh  from  the  infantry, 
and  again  swept  of  defenders. 

The  slaughter  had  now  become  prodigious.  Four-fifths 
of  the  officers  and  one  half  of  the  men  were  either  killed 
or  wounded.  The  ground  was  covered  with  bodies,  and 
the  little  ravine  which  led  to  the  river  was  running  with 
blood.  The  fire  of  the  enemy  had  not  in  the  least  slack- 
ened, and  the  troops  were  falling  in  heaps  before  it  in 
every  part  of  the  camp.  To  have  attempted  to  have 
maintained  his  position  longer,  could  only  have  led  to 
the  total  destruction  of  his  force,  without  the  possibility 
of  annoying  the  enemy,  who  never  showed  themselves, 
unless  when  charged,  and  whose  numbers  (to  judge  from 
t ihs  weight  .and  .exten : >of  -the  iire*)  must  ha^a^reatjy 


4 


ARTHUR  ST.  CLAIR. 


255 


exceeded  his  own.  The  men  were  evidently  much  dis- 
heartened, but  the  officers,  who  were  chiefly  veterans  of 
the  revolution,  still  maintained  a firm  countenance,  and 
exerted  themselves  with  unavailing  heroism  to  the  last. 
Under  these  circumstances,  St.  Ciair  determined  to  save 
the  lives  of  the  survivors  if  possible,  and  for  that  purpose 
collected  the  remnants  of  several  battalions  into  one 
corps,  at  the  head  of  which  he  ordered  Lieutenant  Colo- 
nel Darke  to  make  an  impetuous  charge  upon  the  enemy, 
in  order  to  open  a passage  for  the  remainder  of  the  army. 
Darke  executed  his  orders  with  great  spirit,  and  drove  the 
Indians  before  him  to  the  distance  of  a quarter  of  a mile. 
The  remainder  of  the  army  instantly  rushed  through  the 
opening,  in  order  to  gain  the  road!  Major  Clarke,  with 
the  remnant  of  his  battalion,  bringing  up  the  rear,  and 
endeavoring  to  keep  the  Indians  in  check. ^ 

The  retreat  soon  degenerated  into  a total  rout.  Offi- 
cers who  strove  to  arrest  the  panic,  only  sacrificed  them- 
selves. Clarke,  the  leader  of  the  rear  guard,  soon  fell  in 
this  dangerous  service,  and  his  corps  were  totally  disor- 
ganized. Officers  and  soldiers  were  now  mingled  without 
the  slightest  regard  to  discipline,  and  “ devil  take  the 
hindmost,”  was  the  order  of  the  day.  The  pursuit,  at 
first,  was  keen;  but  the  temptation  afforded  by  the  plun- 
der of  the  camp,  soon  brought  them  back,  and  the  wea- 
ried, wounded,  and  disheartened  fugitives,  were  permitted 
to  retire  from  the  field  unmolested.  The  rout  continued 
as  far  as  Fort  Jefferson,  twenty-nine  miles  from  the  scene 
of  action.  The  action  lasted  more  than  three  hours,  during 
the  whole  of  which  time,  the  fire  was  heavy  and  incessant. 

The  loss,  in  proportion  to  the  number  engaged,  was 
enormous,  and  is  unparalleled,  except  in  the  affair  cf 
Braddock.  Sixty-eight  officers  were  killed  upon  the  spot, 
and  twenty-eight  wounded.  Out  of  nine  hundred  pri- 
vates who  went  into  action,  five  hundred  and  fifty  were 


* General  St.  Clair’s  horses  were  killed,  as  well  as  those  of  his  aids. 
He  was  placed  by  a few  friends  upon  an  exhausted  packhorse  that 
©ouid  not  be  pricked  out  of  a walk,  and  in  this,  condition  followed 
J&«J5earjof  the  troops. 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


25* 

left  dead  upon  the  field,  and  many  of  the  survivors  were 
wounded.  General  St.  Clair  was  untouched,  although  eight 
balls  passed  through  his  hat  and  clothes,  and  several 
horses  were  killed  under  him.  The  Indian  loss  was  re- 
ported by  themselves  at  fifty-eight  killed  and  wounded, 
which  was  probably  not  underrated,  as  they  were  never 
visible  after  the  first  attack,  until  charged  with  the  bayo- 
net. At  Fort  Jefferson,  the  fugitives  were  joined  by  the 
first  regiment,  who,  as  noticed  above,  had  been  detached 
in  pursuit  of  the  deserters.  Here  a council  of  war  was 
.ulled,  which  terminated  in  the  unanimous  opinion,  that 
the  junction  with  the  first  regiment  did  not  justify  an 
attempt  upon  the  enemy  in  the  present  condition  of  af- 
fairs, and  that  the  army  should  return  to  Fort  Washington 
without  delay.  This  was  accordingly  done,  and  thus 
closed  the  second  campaign  against  the  Indians. 

The  unfortunate  general  was,  as  usual,  assailed  from 
one  end  of  the  country  to  the  other,  but  particularly  in 
Kentucky,  with  or*e  loud  and  merciless  outcry  of  abuse, 
and  even  detestation.  All  the  misfortunes  of  his  life,, 
(and  they  were  many  and  bitter,)  were  brought  up  in  array 
against  him.  He  was  reproached  with  cowardice,  trea- 
son, imbecility,  and  a disposition  to  prolong  the  war,  in 
order  to  preserve  that  authority  which  it  gave  him.  He 
was  charged  with  sacrificing  the  lives  of  his  men  and 
the  interests  of  his  country,  to  his  own  private  ambition. 
Men,  who  had  never  fired  a rifle,  and  never  beheld  an 
Indian,  criticised  severely  the  plan  of  his  encampment 
and  the  order  of  his  battle;  and,  in  short,  all  the  bitter 
ingredients  which  compose  the  cup  of  the  unsuccessful 
general,  were  drained  to  the  dregs. 

It  seems  to  be  a universal,  and  probably  a correct  rule, 
that,  as  the  general  reaps  all  the  glory  of  success,  so, 
in  like  manner,  he  should  sustain  all  the  disgrace  of  defeat. 
A victorious  general,  whether  by  a lucky  blunder  or 
otnerwise,  is  distinguished  for  life,  and  an  unfortunate 
one  degraded.  No  charge  in  the  one  case,  or  excuse  in 
the  other,  is  listened  to  for  a moment.  Victory  hides 
every  blemish,  and  misfortune  obscures  every  virtue. 
This  is  the  popular  rule  for  estimating  the  merits  of  a lead- 


ARTHUR  ST.  CLAIR. 


*57 

®r,  which,  for  a time,  might  elevate  a noisy  Chon  to  the 
level  of  an  Alexander.  But  the  historian  decides  other- 
wise. Let  us  look  at  the  unfortunate  St.  Clair’s  conduct, 
and  see  if  it  deserves  the  furious  and  unbounded  censure 
which  has  been  heaped  upon  it.  It  is  acknowledged,  that 
although  attacked  suddenly,  (all  Indian  attacks  are  sudden,) 
he  was  not  surprised.  His  troops  were  encamped  in  order 
of  battle,  and  formed  in  a moment. 

He  cannot  be  charged  with  remissness,  for  he  had  ar- 
rayed them  in  order  of  battle  three  hours  before  daylight, 
and  they  had  just  been  dismissed,  when  the  attack  com- 
menced. He  cannot  be  charged  with  incompetency  during 
the  action , for  all  his  measures,  if  allowance  be  made  for 
the  circumstances  attending  it,  were  bold,  judicious,  and 
military.*  He  did  not  suffer  his  men  to  be  shot  down  in 
their  ranks,  as  in  Braddock^s  case,  but  made  repeated, 
desperate,  and  successful  charges  against  the  enemy, 
which  nothing  but  their  overwhelming  superiority  of  num- 
bers prevented  from  being  decisive.  The  troops,  in  gen- 
eral, behaved  with  firmness,  the  officers  were  the  flower 
of  the  old  continental  army,  and  not  a man  deserted  his 
colors,  until  the  order  was  given  to  retreat. 

The  charge  of  cowardice  is  unworthy  of  an  answer. 
It  could  only  be  brought  by  a blind  and  ignorant  populace, 
stung  with  rage,  as  they  ever  are,  at  defeat,  and  pouring 
upon  their  unhappy  victim,  every  reproach  which  rage, 
ignorance,  and  the  malice  of  interested  demagogues  may 
suggest.  It  may  be  observed,  that  St.  Clair  always  stood 
high  in  the  opinion  of  Washington,  notwithstanding  his 
repeated  misfortunes,  and  that  in  his  last  battle,  although 
worn  down  by  a cruel  disease,  he  exposed  his  person  in 
every  part  of  the  action,  delivered  his  orders  with  cool- 
ness and  judgment,  and  was  one  of  the  last  who  arrived  at 
Fort  Jefferson  in  the  retreat.  His  whole  life  afterwards 
was  one  long  and  wasting  struggle  with  poverty,  reproach, 
and  misfortune. 

When  demanding  a compensation  to  which  he  consider- 
ed himself  entitled*  before  the  congress  of  the  United 


See  Appendix  I ) 


£58 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


States,  a demand  to  which  he  had  been  compelled  by  the 
stern  pressure  of  want,  old  age,  and  decrepitude,  he  was 
stigmatised  by  a member  of  that  body  as  a “ pauper!”  and 
his  claim  rejected ! Rejected  on  that  same  floor  where  a 
princely  present  was  bestowed  on  Lafayette,  for  services 
of  the  same  kind  which  were  refused  to  be  acknowledged 
in  the  case  of  the  unhappy  and  really  indigent  St.  Clair. 
In  the  one  case,  their  generosity  would  resound  through 
the  world,  and  gratify  national  pride.  In  the  other,  it 
wmuld  only  have  been  an  act  of  obscure  justice!  The 
official  letter  of  St.  Clair,  at  once  temperate,  mournful, 
and  dignified,  is  subjoined  in  the  appendix. 

It  remains  only  to  mention  such  private  incidents  as  we 
have  been  enabled  to  collect.  The  late  William  Kennan, 
of  Fleming  County,  at  that  time  a young  man  of  eighteen, 
was  attached  to  the  corps  bf  rangers  who  accompanied  the 
regular  force.  He  had  long  been  remarkable  for  strength 
and  activity.  In  the  course  of  the  march  from  Fort  Wash- 
ington, he  had  repeated  opportunities  of  testing  his  aston- 
ishing powers  in  that  respect,  and  was  universally  admit- 
ted to  be  the  swiftest  runner  of  the  light  corps.  On  the 
evening  preceding  the  action,  his  corps  had  been  advanc- 
ed, as  already  observed,  a few  hundred  yards  in  front  of 
the  first  line  of  infantry,  in  order  to  give  seasonable  notice 
of  the  enemy’s  approach.  Just  as  day  was  dawning,  he 
observed  about  thirty  Indians  within  one  hundred  yards 
of  the  guard  fire,  advancing  cautiously  towards  the  spot 
where  he  stood,  together  with  about  twenty  rangers,  the 
rest  being  considerably  in’ the  rear. 

Supposing  it  to  be  a mere  scouting  party,  as  usual,  and 
not  superior  in  number  to  the  rangers,  he  sprung  forward 
a few  paces  in  order  to  shelter  himself  in  a spot  of  peculi- 
arly rank  grass,  and  firing  with  a quick  aim  upon  the 
foremost  Indian,  he  instantly  fell  flat  upon  his  face,  and 
proceeded  with  all  possible  rapidity  to  reload  his  gun,  not 
doubting  for  a moment,  but  that  the  rangers  would  main- 
tain their  position,  and  support  him.  The  Indians,  how- 
ever, rushed  forward  in  such  overwhelming  masses,  that 
the  rangers  were  compelled  to  fly  with  precipitation,  leav- 
ing young  Kennan  in  total  ignorance  of  his  danger.  For- 


WILLIAM  KENNAN. 


25$ 


tbnately,  the  captain  of  his  company  had  observed  him 
when  he  threw  himself  in  the  grass,  and  suddenly  shouted 
aloud,  « Run  Kennan!  or  you  are  a dead  man!”  He  in- 
stantly sprung  to  his  feet,  and  beheld  Indians  within  ten 
feet  of  him,  while  his  company  was  already  more  than  one 
hundred  yards  in  front. 

Not  a moment  was  to  be  lost.  He  darted  off  with  every 
muscle  strained  to  its  utmost,  and  was  pursued  by  a dozen 
of  the  enemy  with  loud  yells!  He  at  first  pressed  straight 
forward  to  the  usual  fording  place  in  the  creek,  which  ran 
between  the  rangers  and  the  main  army,  but  several  In- 
dians who  had  passed  him  before  he  arose  from  the  grass, 
threw  themselves  in  the  way,  and  completely  cut  him  off 
from  the  rest.  By  the  most  powerful  exertions,  he  had 
thrown  the  whole  body  of  pursuers  behind  him,  with  the 
exception  of  one  young  chief,  (probably  Messhawa,)  who 
displayed  a swiftness  and  perseverance  equal  to  his  own. 
In  the  circuit  which  Kennan  was  obliged  to  take,  the  race 
continued  for  more  than  four  hundred  yards.  The  dis- 
tance between  them  was  about  eighteen  feet,  which  Ken- 
nan could  not  increase  nor  his  adversary  diminish.  Each, 
for  the  time,  put  his  whole  soul  into  the  race. 

Kennan,  as  far  as  he  was  able,  kept  his  eye  upon  the 
motions  of  his  pursuer,  lest  he  should  throw  the  tomahawk, 
which  he  held  aloft  in  a menacing  attitude,  and  at  length, 
finding  that  no  other  Indian  was  immediately  at  hand,  he 
determined  to  try  the  mettle  of  his  pursuer  in  a different 
manner,  and  felt  for  his  tomahawk  in  order  to  turn  at  bay. 
It  had  escaped  from  its  sheath,  however,  while  he  lay  in 
the  grass,  and  his  hair  had  almost  lifted  the  cap  from  his 
head,  when  he  saw  himself  totally  disarmed.  As  he  had 
slackened  his  pace  for  a moment  the  Indian  was  almost 
in  reach  of  him,  when  he  recommenced  the  race,  but  the 
idea  of  being  without  arms,  lent  wings  to  his  flight,  and 
for  the  first  time,  he  saw  himself  gaining  ground.  He  had 
watched  the  motions  of  his  pursuer  too  closely,  however, 
to  pay  proper  attention  to  the  nature  of  the  ground  before 
him,  and  he  suddenly  found  himself  in  front  of  a large  tree 
which  had  been  blown  down,  and  upon  which  brush  and 
other  impediments  lay  to  the  height  of  eight  or  nine  feet. 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


260 

The  Indian  (who  heretofore  had  not  uttered  the  slightest 
sound)  now  gave  a short  quick  yell,  as  if  secure  of  his  vic- 
tim. Kennan  had  not  a moment  to  deliberate.  He  must 
clear  the  impediment  at  a leap  or  perish.  Putting  his 
whole  soul  into  the  effort,  he  bounded  into  the  air  with  a 
power  which  astonished  himself,  and  clearing  limbs,  brush, 
and  every  thing  else,  alighted  in  perfect  safety  upon  the 
other  side.  A loud  yell  of  astonishment  burst  from  the 
band  of  pursuers,  not  one  of  whom  had  the  hardihood  to  at- 
tempt the  same  feat.  Kennan,  as  may  be  readily  imagined, 
had  no  leisure  to  enjoy  his  triumph,  but  dashing  into  the 
bed  of  the  creek  (upon  the  banks  of  which  his  feat  had 
been  performed)  where  the  high  banks  would  shield  him 
from  the  fire  of  the  enemy,  he  ran  up  the  stream  until  a 
convenient  place  offered  for  crossing,  and  rejoined  the 
rangers  in  the  rear  of  the  encampment,  panting  from  the 
fatigue  of  exertions  which  have  seldom  been  surpassed. 
No  breathing  time  was  allowed  him,  however.  The  attack 
instantly  commenced,  and  as  we  have  already  observed, 
was  maintained  for  three  hours,  with  unabated  fury. 

When  the  retreat  commenced,  Kennan  was  attached  to 
Major  Clarke’s  battalion,  and  had  the  dangerous  service  of 
protecting  the  rear.  This  corps  quickly  lost  its  command- 
er, and  was  completely  disorganized.  Kennan  was  among 
the  hindmost  when  the  flight  commenced,  but  exerting 
those  same  powers  which  had  saved  him  in  the  morning, 
he  quickly  gained  the  front,  passing  several  horsemen  in 
the  flight.  Here  he  beheld  a private  in  his  own  company, 
an  intimate  acquaintance,  lying  upon  the  ground,  with  his 
thigh  broken,  and  in  tones  of  the  most  piercing  distress, 
implored  each  horseman  who  hurried  by  to  take  him. up 
behind  him.  As  soon  as  he  beheld  Kennan  coming  up  on 
foot,  he  stretched  out  his  arms,  and  called  loud  upon  him  to 
save  him.  Notwithstanding  the  imminent  peril  of  the  mo 
ment,  his  friend  could  not  reject  so  passionate  an  appeal 
but  seizing  him  in  his  arms,  he  placed  him  upon  his  back 
and  ran  in  that  manner  for  several  hundred  yards.  Horse- 
man after  horseman  passed  them,  all  of  whom  refused  to 
relieve  him  of  his  burden. 

At  length  the  enemy  was  gaining  upon  him  so  fast,  that 


WILLIAM  KENNAPf. 


261 


Kennan  saw  their  death  certain,  unless  he  relinquished 
his  burden.  He  accordingly  told  his  friend,  that  he  had 
used  every  possible  exertion  to  save  his  life,  but  in  vain; 
that  he  must  relax  his  hold  around  his  neck  or  they  would 
both  perish.  The  unhappy  wretch,  heedless  of  every  re- 
monstrance, still  clung  convulsively  to  his  back,  and  im- 
peded his  exertions  until  the  foremost  of  the  enemy  (armed 
with  tomahawks  alone,)  were  within  twenty  yards  of  them. 
Kennan  then  drew  his  knife  from  its  sheath  and  cut  the 
fingers  of  his  companion,  thus  compelling  him  to  relinquish 
his  hold.  The  unhappy  man  rolled  upon  the  ground  in 
utter  helplessness,  and  Kennan  beheld  him  tomahawked 
before  he  had  gone  thirty  yards.  Relieved  from  his  bur- 
den, he  darted  forward  with  an  activity  which  once  more 
brought  him  to  the  van.  Here  again  he  was  compelled  to 
neglect  his  own  safety  in  order  to  attend  to  that  of  others. 

The  late  Governor  Madison,  of  Kentucky,  who  after- 
wards commanded  the'corps  which  defended  themselves  so 
honorably  at  Raisin,  a man  who  united  the  most  amiable 
temper  to  the  most  unconquerable  courage,  was  at  that 
time  a subaltern  in  St.  Clair’s  army,  and  being  a man  of 
infirm  constitution,  was  totally  exhausted  by  the  exertions 
of  the  morning,  and  was  now  sitting  down  calmly  upon  a 
log,  awaiting  the  approach  of  his  enemies.  Kennan  hasti- 
ly accosted  him,  and  inquired  the  cause  of  his  delay.  Ma- 
dison, pointing  to  a wound  which  had  bled  profusely,  re- 
plied that  he  was  unable  to  walk  further,  and  had  no  horse. 
Kennan  instantly  ran  back  to  a spot  where  he  had  seen  an 
exhausted  horse  grazing,  caught  him  without  difficulty,  and 
having  assisted  Madison  to  mount,  walked  by  his  side  until 
they  wrere  out  of  danger.  Fortunately,  the  pursuit  soon 
ceased,  as  the  plunder  of  the  camp  presented  irresistible 
attractions  to  the  enemy.  The  friendship  thus  formed  be- 
tween these  two  young  men,  endured  without  interrup- 
tion through  life.  Mr.  Kennan  never  entirely  recovered 
from  the  immense  exertions  which  he  was  compelled  to 
make  during  this  unfortunate  expedition.  He  settled  in 
Fleming  county,  and  continued  for  many  years  a leading 
member  of  the  Baptist  church.  He  died  in  1827. 

A party  of  Chickasaws  were  on  their  march  to  join  Sic 


262 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


Clair,  but  did  not  arrive  in  time  to  share  in  the  action 
One  warrior  of  that  nation,  alone,  was  present,  and  dis- 
played the  most  admirable  address  and  activity.  He  pos- 
itively refused  to  stand  in  the  ranks  with  the  soldiers, 
declaring  that  the  “ Shawnees  would  shoot  him  down  like  a 
wild  pigeon;’1  but  took  refuge  behind  a log,  a few  yards 
in  front  of  Butler’s  battalion,  and  discharged  his  rifle  eleven 
times  at  the  enemy  with  unerring  accuracy.  He  could 
not  be  persuaded,  however,  to  forego  the  pleasure  of  scalp- 
ing each  Indian  as  he  fell,  and  in  performing  this  agreeable 
office  he  at  length  was  shot  down  by  the  enemy  and  scalped 
in  turn. 

The  leader  of  the  Indian  army  in  this  bloody  engage- 
ment, was  a chief  of  the  Missassago  tribe,  known  by  the 
name  of  the  “Little  Turtle.”  Notwithstanding  his  name, 
he  was  at  least  six  feet  high,  strong,  muscular,  and  remark- 
ably dignified  in  his  appearance.  He  was  forty  years  of 
age,  had  seen  much  service,  and  had  accompanied  Bur- 
goyne  in  his  disastrous  invasion.  His  aspect  was  harsh, 
sour  and  forbidding,  and  his  person  during  the  action,  was 
arrayed  in  the  very  extremity  of  Indian  foppery,  having  at 
least  twenty  dollars  worth  of  silver  depending  from  his 
nose  and  ears.  The  plan  of  attack  was  conceived  by  him 
alone,  in  opposition  to  the  opinion  of  almost  every  other 
chief.  Notwithstanding  his  ability,  however,  he  was  said 
to  have  been  unpopular  among  the  Indians,  probably  in 
consequence  of  those  very  abilities. 

Many  veteran  officers  of  inferior  rank,  who  had  served 
with  distinction  throughout  the  revolutionary  war,  were 
destined  to  perish  in  this  unhappy  action.  Among  them 
was  the  gallant  and  unrewarded  Captain  Kirkwood,  of  the 
old  Delaware  line,  so  often  and  so  honorably  mentioned  in 
Lee’s  Memoirs.  The  state  of  Delaware  having  had  but 
one  regiment  on  continental  establishment,  and  that  regi- 
ment having  been  reduced  to  a company  at  Camden,  it  was 
impossible  for  Kirkwood  to  be  promoted  without  a violation 
of  the  ordinary  rules,  by  which  commissions  were  regulated. 
He  accordingly,  had  the  mortification  of  beholding  junior 
officers  daily  mounting  above  him  in  the  scale  of  rank, 
sffiile  he  himself,  however  meritorious,  was  compelled  to 


LIEUTENANT  COLONEL  DARKE.  263 

remain  in  his  present  condition,  on  account  of  the  small 
force  which  his  native  state  could  bring  into  the  field. 

Notwithstanding  this  constant  source  of  mortification, 
he  fought  with  distinguished  gallantry,  throughout  the  war, 
and  was  personally  engaged  in  the  battles  of  Camden, 
Guilford,  Hobkirks,  Ninety-six  and  Eutaw,  the  hottest  and 
bloodiest  which  occurred  during  the  revolution.  At  the 
peace  of  1783,  he  returned  with  a broken  fortune,  but  a 
high  reputation  for  courage,  honor,  and  probity,  and  upon 
the  re-appearance  of  war  in  the  north-west,  he  hastened 
once  more  to  the  scene  of  action,  and  submitted,  without 
reluctance,  to  the  command  of  officers  who  had  been  boys 
while  he  was  fighting  those  severe  battles  in  the  south. 
He  fell  in  a brave  attempt  to  repel  the  enemy  with  the 
bayonet,  and  thus  closed  a career  as  honorable  as  it  was 
unrewarded. 

Lieutenant  Colonel  Darke’s  escape,  was  almost  miracu- 
lous.  Possessed  of  a tall,  striking  figure,  in  full  uniform* 
and  superbly  mounted,  he  headed  three  desperate  charges 
against  the  enemy,  in  each  of  which  he  was  a conspicuous 
mark.  His  clothes  were  cut  in  many  places,  but  he  e? 
caped  with  only  a slight  flesh  wound.  In  the  last  charge, 
Ensign  Wilson,  a youth  of  seventeen,  was  shot  through 
the  heart,  and  fell  a few  paces  in  the  rear  of  the  regiment, 
which  was  then  rather  rapidly  returning  to  their  original 
position.  An  Indian,  attracted  by  his  rich  uniform,  sprung 
up  from  the  grass,  and  rushed  forward  to  scalp  him.  Darke, 
who  was  at  that  time  in  the  rear  of  his  regiment,  suddenly 
faced  about,  dashed  at  the  Indian  on  horseback,  and  cleft 
his  skull  with  his  broad  sword,  drawing  upon  himself  by  the 
act,  a rapid  discharge  of  more  than  a dozen  rifles.  He  re- 
joined his  regiment,  however,  in  safety,  being  compelled 
to  leave  the  body  of  young  Wilson  to  the  enemy.  On  the 
evening  of  the  8th  of  November,  the  broken  remains  of 
the  army  arrived  at  Fort  Washington,  and  were  placed  in 
winter  quarters  ^ 


264 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Amidst  the  almost  universal  clamor  which  arose  upon 
the  defeat  of  the  unfortunate  St.  Clair,  General  Washing- 
ton himself  did  not  entirely  escape  censure.  The  ap- 
pointment of  an  old,  infirm,  and  above  all,  an  unlucky 
general  to  a command,  which  above  all  other  qualities,  re- 
quired activity,  promptitude,  and  the  power  of  sustaining 
great  fatigue,  was  reprobated  in  no  measured  terms.  Pub- 
lic opinion  imperiously  demanded  a better  selection  for  the 
third  offensive  campaign,  and  St.  Clair  was  necessarily 
superseded.  The  choice  of  a proper  successor  became 
the  theme  of  general  discussion,  and  was  a matter  of  no 
small  difficulty.  The  command  was  eagerly  sought  by 
many  officers  of  the  revolution,  among  whom  the  most 
prominent  were  General  Wayne  of  Pennsylvania,  and  the 
late  General  Henry  Lee,  of  Virginia,  the  celebrated  com- 
mandant of  the  Partisan  legion  during  the  war  of  Inde- 
pendence. 

The  peculiar  fitness  of  Lee  for  a command  of  that  kind, 
seems  to  have  impressed  itself  strongly  upon  the  mind  of 
Washington,  and  there  is  a letter  extant,  which  shows, 
that  nothing  but  the  discontent,  which  the  appointment  of 
so  young  an  officer,  would  naturally  have  excited  in  the 
minds  of  those  who  had  held  a rank  above  him  in  the  for- 
mer war,  could  have  prevented  his  being  the  successor  of 
St.  Clair.  This  objection  did  not  apply  to  Wayne,  and  as 
he  had  repeatedly  proved  himself  a bold,  active,  and 
energetic  commander,  his  appointment  was  unacceptable 
to  those  only  whose  claims  had  been  rejected — a descrip- 
tion of  men  very  difficult  to  be  pleased.  Wayne  had  en- 
tered the  army,  as  colonel  of  a regiment  in  the  Pennsyl- 
vania line,  and  first  attracted  notice  in  the  Canadian  ex- 
pedition. He  there  displayed  so  keen  a relish  for  battle 
upon  all  occasions,  and  upon  any  terms,  exposed  his  own 
life  as  well  as  those  of  his  men  with  such  reckless- 
ness, and  was  in  the  habit  of  swearing  so  hard  in  the  heat 


ANTHONY  WAYNE;  266 

of  battle,  that  he  soon  obtained,  among  the'  common  sol- 
diers, the  nickname  of  “ Mad  Anthony.” 

He  never  enjoyed  a high  reputation,  as  an  officer  of 
prudence,  science,  and  combination;  and  on  one  occasion* 
particularly,  was  surprised  by  the  celebrated  English  par- 
tisan, Grey,  and  routed  with  a slaughter  scarcely  inferior 
to  that  of  St.  Clair.  As  an  executive  officer,  however,  he 
was  incomparable.  He  seemed  to  be  of  opinion,  that  the 
whole  science  of  war  consisted  in  giving  and  taking  hard 
blows;  and  we  have  heard  from  one  who  served  under 
him  many  years,  that  his  favorite  word  of  command  was 

u Charge  the  d d rascals  with  the  bayonet.”  When- 

ever  (as  at  Stony  Point,)  a bold,  brisk  onset  was  all  that 
was  required,  no  better  general  than  Wayne  could  possi- 
bly be  selected,  but  on  other  occasions,  his  keen  appetite 
for  action  was  apt  to  hurry  him  into  an  imprudent  expo- 
sure of  his  troops.. 

In  Virginia,  he  once  narrowly  escaped  total  destruc- 
tion, by  pressing  too  eagerly  upon  Lord  Cornwallis,  who 
afterwards  repeatedly  affirmed,  that  one  half  hour  more  of 
daylight  would  have  sufficed  for  the  destruction  of  his  rash 
but  gallant  enemy;  and  afterwards  in  the  Carolinas,  his 
quarters  were  broken  up,  and  his  whole  camp  thrown  into 
confusion  by  a small  party  of  Creek  Indians,  who  fell  upon 
him  as  unexpectedly  as  if  they  had  risen  from  the  earth. 
Several  severe  losses,  however,  which  he  received  in  the 
course  of  his  career,  had  taught  him  to  temper  his  cour- 
age with  a moderate  degree  of  caution,  and  as  he  was  re- 
markably popular  among  the  common  soldiers,  (who  are 
better  judges  of  the  ordinary  quality  of  courage  than  the 
higher  military  talents,)  he  was  supposed  to  be  peculiarly 
qualified  for  re-animating  the  cowering  spirits  of  the 
troops. 

There  was  an  interval  of  more  than  a year  between  the 
defeat  of  St.  Clair,  and  the  appointment  of  his  successor. 
Wayne  lost  no  time  in  proceeding  to  the  head  quarters  or 
the  western  army,  and  arrived  at  Fort  Washington  in  the 
spring  of  1793.  Reinforcements  of  regular  troops  were 
constantly  arriving,  and  in  addition  to  the  usual  comple- 
ment of  cavalry  and  artillery,  a strong  legionary  corps 


1 66 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


was  raised  upon  continental  establishment,  and  placed  un- 
der his  command.  In  addition  to  this,  he  was  authorized 
to  call  upon  the  governor  of  Kentucky,  (Shelby,)  for  as 
many  mounted  militia  as  might  be  necessary.  It  was  so 
late  in  the  season,  however,  before  all  the  various  forces 
could  be  collected,  and  all  the  necessary  supplies  procured, 
that  he  judged  it  prudent  to  defer  any  offensive  movement 
until  the  spring. 

The  mounted  volunteers  were  accordingly  dismissed 
w ith  some  flattering  encomiums  upon  their  zeal  and  readi- 
ness, while  the  regular  forces  were  placed  in  winter 
quarters.  The  volunteers  returned  to  Kentucky  with  a 
high  idea  of  the  efficiency  of  the  regular  force  under 
Wayne,  and  sanguine  expectations  of  a favorable  result. 
The  rapid  succession  of  disasters  which  had  heretofore  at- 
tended the  operations  of  regulars  in  conjunction  with  mi- 
litia, had  created  a strong  disgust  to  that  species  of  force, 
and  it  was  with  difficulty  that  a sufficient  number  of  mounted 
men  could  be  procured  for  co-operation.  But  after  witness- 
ing the  order,  diligence,  and  energy  which  characterized 
Wayne’s  conduct  as  an  officer,  and  the  indefatigable  labor 
with  which  he  drilled  his  troops  into  a ready  performance 
of  the  necessary  movements,  this  disrelish  to  a co-operation 
with  regulars  completely  vanished,  and  on  the  following 
spring,  the  volunteers  proffered  their  services  with  great 
alacrity. 

During  the  winter,  Wayne  remained  at  a fort  w hich  he 
had  built  upon  a western  fork  of  the  little  Miami,  and  to 
which  he  had  given  the  name  of  Greenville.  By  detach- 
ments from  the  regular  troops  he  was  enabled  to  sweep 
the  country  lying  between  him  and  the  Miami  villages, 
and  having  taken  possession  of  the  ground  upon  which  St. 
Clair  was  defeated,  he  erected  a small  fort  upon  it,  to  wffich 
be  gave  the  name  of  Recovery.  His  orders  w7ere  positive, 
to  endeavor,  if  possible,  to  procure  peace  upon  reasonable 
terms,  without  resorting  to  force,  and  he  accordingly  opened 
several  conferences  with  the  hostile  tribes  during  the 
winter. 

Many  of  their  chiefs  visited  him  in  his  camp,  and  ex- 
amined his  troops,  artillerj,  and  equipments  with,  greai 


ANTHONY  WAYNE. 


257 


’iention,  and  from  time  to  time  made  ample  professions  of  a 
disposition  to  bury  the  hatchet;  but  nothing  definite  could 
be  drawn  from  them,  and  from  the  known  partiality  of 
Wayne  to  the  decision  of  the  sword,  could  it  be  supposed 
that  he  pressed  the  overtures  with  much  eagerness.  As 
the  spring  approached,  the  visits  of  the  Indians  became 
more  rare,  and  their  professions  of  friendship  waxed 
fainter.  In  February,  they  threw  aside  the  mask  at  once, 
and  made  a bold  effort  to  carry  the  distant  outpost  at  Fort 
Recovery  by  a coup-de-main.  In  this,  however,  they  were 
frustrated  by  the  vigilance  and  energy  of  the  garrison; 
and  finding  that  Wayne  was  neither  to  be  surprised  nor 
deceived,  they  employed  themselves  in  collecting  their  ut- 
most strength,  with  a determination  to  abide  the  brunt  of 
battle. 

In  the  spring,  the  general  called  upon  the  governor  of 
Kentucky  for  a detachment  of  mounted  men,  who  repaired 
with  great  alacrity  to  his  standard,  in  two  brigades  under 
Todd  and  Barbee,  the  whole  commanded  by  Major  Gener- 
al Scott,  amounting  to  more  than  fifteen  hundred  men,  ac- 
customed to  Indian  warfare.  The  regular  force  including 
cavalry  and  artillery,  amounted  to  about  two  thousand,  so 
that  the  general  found  himself  at  the  head  of  three  thou- 
sand men,  well  provided  with  every  thing,  in  high  spirits 
and  eager  for  battle.  The  Indian  force  did  not  exceed 
two  thousand,  and  was  known  to  have  assembled  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  British  fort  at  the  rapids  of  the  Mi- 
ami. 

It  was  late  in  July,  before  Wayne  was  ready  to  march 
from  Greenville,  and  from  the  nature  of  the  country,  as 
well  as  the  necessity  of  guarding  against  surprise,  his 
progress  was  very  leisurely.  On  the  19th  of  August, 
when  within  a day’s  march  of  the  enemy’s  position,  he 
determined  to  send  a messenger,  charged  with  the  last 
offer  of  peace  and  friendship,  which  he  intended  to  make. 
For  this  dangerous,  and  apparently  useless  office,  he  se- 
lected a private  volunteer,  named  Miller,  who  had  for- 
merly been  taken  by  the  Indians,  and  lived  for  many 
years  upon  the  banks  of  the  Miami.  Miller,  however, 
.appeared  lo  value  his  owjs  neck  much  jnore  highly  .than 


268 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


the  general  did,  as  he  stoutly  remonstrated  against  the 
duty,  declaring  that  it  would  be  useless  to  the  army,  a j 
well  as  destructive  to  himself. 

He  declared,  confidently,  that  the  Indians,  from  many 
undoubted  signs,  were  resolutely  bent  upon  battle,  and 
would  listen  to  nothing  of  which  he  might  be  the  bearer. 
He  added,  that  he  knew  them  of  old,  and  was  satisfied 
that  they  would  roast  him  alive,  without  an  instant’s  hes- 
itation, in  defiance  of  his  white  flag,  and  sacred  character 
of  ambassador.  Wayner  however,  was  not  to  be  diverted 
from  his  purpose.  He  assured  Miller  that  he  would  hold 
eight  or  ten  Indians  then  in  his  camp,  as  hostages  for  his 
safe  return,  and  if  the  enemy  roasted  him,  he  swore  that 
a noble  hecatomb  should  be  offered  to  his  manes,  as  he 
would  compel  all  his  prisoners  to  undergo  the  same  fate; 
but  concluded  with  an  assurance  that  the  Indians,,  when 
informed  of  his  determination,  would  dismiss  him  in  per- 
fect safety,  for  a regard  to  the  lives  of  their  friends. 

Reluctantly,  and  with  many  dark  prophecies  of  the  fate 
which  awaited  him,  he  at  length  consented  to  go  upon  the 
mission,  and  having  taken  leave  of  his  friends,  he  set  off 
at  a rapid  pace  for  the  Indian  camp.  When  within  view 
of  it,  he  hoisted  a white  flag  upon  a pole  and  marched 
boldly  forward,  knowing  that  in  this,  as  in  most  other 
cases,  the  boldest  is  the  safest  course.  As  soon  as  they 
beheld  him  approaching,  they  ran  out  to  meet  him  with 
loud  yells,  brandishing  their  tomahawks,  and  crying  out 
in  their  own  language,  “Kill  the  runaway!”  Miller, 
who  well  understood  their  language,  instantly  addressed 
them  with  great  earnestness,  and  in  a few  words  made 
known  the  cause  of  his  visit,  and  the  guarantee  which 
Wayne  held  for  his  safe  return.  To  the  first  part  of  the 
intelligence  they  listened  with  supreme  contempt.  A 
long  conference  ensued,  in  which  many  chiefs  spoke,  but 
nothing  could  be  determined  upon. 

On  the  next  day,  Miller  was  ordered  to  return  to 
Wayne,  with  some  evasive  message,  intending  to  amuse 
him,  until  they  could  devise  some  means  of  recovering 
their  friends.  He,  accordingly,  left  them  with  great  re» 
dinass,  and  was  *e turning  with  all  possible  despatch,  when 


ANTHONY  WAYNE. 


im 

he  met  the  general  in  full  march  upon  the  enemy  having 
become  tired  of  waiting  for  the  return  of  his  messenger. 
Wayne’s  object  in  sending  Miller,  is  difficult  to  be  con- 
jectured. The  Indians  had  constantly  refused  to  come 
to  any  terms.  They  had  sent  away  their  women,  and 
given  every  indication  of  a disposition  to  fight,,  and  were 
in  possession  of  ground  which  would  give  them  immense 
advantages  against  the  regulars..  He  could  scarcely  sup- 
pose that  a treaty  could  be  effected,,  nor  with  the  prospect 
of  battle  before  him,  which  to  himr  presented  all  the 
attractions  of  a ball  to  a dandy  or  a dinner  to  an  epicure, 
is  it  to  be  supposed  that  he  could  have  been  very  desirous 
of  such  an  event.  The  ground  was  well  known  to  many 
individuals  in  the  army,  and  Miller’s  report  could  have 
added  but  little  to  the  knowledge  already  existing,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  strong  probability,  that  he  might  never 
return  from  a duty  so  perilous ! The  truth  is,  the  old  gen- 
eral valued  the  life  of  a soldier  at  an  exceedingly  low  rate, 
and  thought  that  even  if  the  mission  brought  no  advan- 
tage, it  was  attended  with  no  other  danger,  than  the 
chance  of  death  to  a single  soldier,  which  did  not  deserve 
a moment’s  thought. 

The  general  received  the  report  of  Miller  without  de- 
laying his  march  for  a moment,  which  was  continued  in 
order  of  battle,  until  he  arrived  within  view  of  the  enemy. 
The  regular  force  formed  the  centre  column,  one  brigade 
of  mounted  volunteers  moved  upon  the  left  under  General 
Barbee,  the  other  brought  up  the  rear  under  Brigadier  Todd. 
The  right  flank  w?s  covered  by  the  river,  and  Major  Price, 
with  a selected  corps  of  mounted  volunteers,  was  advan- 
ced about  five  miles  in  front,  with  orders  to  feel  the  ene- 
my’s position,  and  then  fall  back  upon  the  main  body. 
About  noon,  the  advanced  corps  received  so  heavy  a fire 
from  a concealed  enemy,  as  to  compel  it  to  retire  with  pre- 
cipitation. The  heads  of  the  columns  quickly  reached 
the  hostile  ground,  and  had  a view  of  the  enemy.  The 
ground  for  miles  was  covered  with  a thick  growth  of  tim- 
ber* which  rendered  the  operation  of  cavalry  extremely 
difficult.  The  Indians  occupied  a thick  wood  in  front, 
where  an  immense  number  of  trees  had  been  blown  down 


"270 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


by  a hurricane,  the  branches  of  which  were  interlocked 
in  such  a manner  as  greatly  to  impede  the  exertions  of 
the  regulars. 

The  enemy  were  formed  in  three  parallel  lines,  at  right 
angles  to  the  river,  and  displayed  a front  of  more  than 
two  miles.  Wayne  rode  forward  to  reconnoiter  their 
positions,  and  perceiving  from  the  weight  and  extent  of  the 
fire,  that  they  were  in  full  force,  he  instantly  made  dispo- 
sitions for  the  attack.  The  whole  of  the  mounted  volun- 
teers were  ordered  to  make  a circuit,  for  the  purpose  of 
turning  the  right  flank  of  the  Indians;  the  cavalry  were 
ordered  to  move  up  under  cover  of  the  river  bank,  and  if 
possible,  turn  their  left;  while  the  regular  infantry  were 
formed  in  a thick  wood  in  front  of  the  “Fallen  timber,’1 
with  orders,  as  soon  as  the  signal  was  given,  to  rush  for 
ward  at  full  speed,  without  firing  a shot,  arousing  the 
enemy  from  their  covert  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  and 
then  to  deliver  a close  fire  upon  their  backs,  pressing 
them  so  closely  as  not  to  permit  them  to  reload  their  guns. 
All  these  orders  were  executed  with  precision.  The 
mounted  volunteers  moved  off  rapidly  to  occupy  the  desig- 
nated ground,  while  the  first  line  of  infantry,  was  formed  un- 
der the  eye  of  the  commander  for  the  perilous  charge  in  front. 

As  soon  as  time  had  been  given  for  the  arrival  of  the 
several  corps,  upon  their  respective  points,  the  order  wras 
given  to  advance,  and  the  infantry,  rushing  through  a tre- 
mendous fire  of  rifles,  and  overleaping  every  impediment, 
hastened  to  close  with  their  concealed  enemy,  and  main- 
tain the  struggle  on  equal  terms.  Although  their  loss,  in 
this  desperate  charge,  w7as  by  no  means  inconsiderable, 
yet  the  effect  was  decisive.  The  enemy  rose  and  fled 
before  them  more  than  two  miles,  with  considerable  loss, 
as,  owing  to  the  orders  of  Wayne,  they  were  nearly  as 
much  exposed  as  the  regulars.  Such  was  the  rapidity  of 
the  advance.,  and  the  precipitation  of  the  retreat,  that  only 
• a small  part  of  the  volunteers  could  get  up  in  time  to 
hare  in  the  action,  although  there  can  be  no  question 
that  their  presence,  and  threatening  movement,  contrib- 
uted equally  with  the  impetuous  charge  of  the . infantry* 
Uo  thesuccessoT  *the  day. 


ANTHONY  WAYNE, 


271 


The  broken  remains  of  the  Indian  army  were  pursued 
: under  th*2  guns  of  the  British  fort,  and  so  keen  w'as  the 
ardor  of  Wayne’s  men,  and  so  strong  their  resentment 
against  the  English,  that  it  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty 
they  could  be  restrained  from  storming  it  upon  the  spot* 
As  it  was,  many  of  the  Kentucky  troops  advanced  within 
gunshot,  and  insulted  the  garrison  with  a select  volley  of 
oaths  and  epithets,  which  must  have  given  ihe  British 
commandant  a high  idea  of  backwoods  gentility.  He 
instantly  wrote  an  indignant  letter  to  General  Wayne, 
complaining  of  the  outrage,  and  demanding  by  w hat  au- 
thority he  trespassed  upon  the  sacred  precincts  of  a Brit- 
ish garrison?  Now,  “Mad  Anthony5’  was  the  last  man 
in  the  world  to  be  dragooned  into  politeness,  and  he  re- 
plied in  terms  but  little  short  of  those  employed  by  the 
Kentuckians,  and  satisfactorily  informed  Captain  Camp- 
bell, the  British  commandant,  4ha.t  bis  only  chance  of 
safety  was  silence  and  civility.  After  some  sharp  messa- 
ges on  both  sides,  the  war  of  the  pen  ceased,  and  the 
destruction  of  property  began.  Houses,  stores,  corn  fields, 
orchards,  were  soon  wrapped  in  flames  or  leveled  with 
the  earth.  The  dwelling  house  and  store  of  Colonel 
'McKee,  the  Indian  Agent,  shared  the  fate  of  the  rest. 

All  this  wras  performed  before  the  face  of  Captain  Camp- 
bell, who  was  compelled  to  look  on  in  silence,  and  without 
any  effort  to  prevent  it.  There  remains  not  the  least 
question  now  that  the  Indians  were  not  only  encouraged 
in  their  acts  of  hostility  by  the  English  traders,  but  were 
actually  supplied  with  arms,  ammunition,  and  provisions, 
by  order  of  the  English  commandant  at  Detroit,  Colonel 
England.*  There  remains  a correspondence  between 
this  gentleman  and  McKee,  in  which  urgent  demands  are 


* This  gentleman  was  remarkable  for  his  immense  height  and  enor 
mous  quantity  of  flesh.  After  his  return  from  America,  the  waggish 
Prince  of  Wales,  who  was  himself  no  pigmy,  became  desirous  of  seeing 
him.  Colonel  England  was  one  day  pointed  out  to  him  by  Sheridan, 
as  he  was  in  the  act  of  dismounting  from  his  horse.  The  Prince  re- 
garded him  with  marked  attention  for  several  minutes,  and  then  turning 
i to  Sheridan,  said  with  a laugh  “ Colonel  England  hey  ! You  should 
hkave  .said  Great.  Britain  ! bj-G-r-d'!” 


273 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


made  for  fresh’ supplies  of  ammunition , and  the  approach* 
of  “the  enemy’T  (as  they  call  Wayne,)  is  mentioned  with 
great  anxiety.  After  the  battle  of  the  Rapids,  he  writes 
that  the  Indians  are  much  discouraged,  and  that“i<  will 
require  great  efforts  to  induce  them  to  remain  in  a body” 
Had  Wayne  been  positively  informed  of  this  circumstance, 
he  would  scarcely  have  restrained  his  men  from  a more 
energetic  expression  of  indignation. 

The  Indian  force  being  completely  dispersed,  their  corn 
lields  cut  up,  and  their  houses  destroyed,  Wayne  drew  off 
"’om  the  neighborhood  of  the  British  post,  and  in  order  to 
hold  the  Indians  permanently  in  check,  he  erected  a fort 
at  the  junction  of  the  Auglaize  and  Miami,  in  the  very 
heart  of  the  Indian  country,  to  which  he  gave  the  appropri- 
ate name  of  Defiance.  As  this  was  connected,  with  Fort 
Washington  by  various  intermediate  fortifications,  it  could 
not  fail  completely  to  overawe  the  enemy,  who,  in  a very 
short  time,  urgently  and  unanimously  demanded  peace. 

No  victory  could  have  been  better  timed  than  that  of 
Wayne.  The  various  tribes  of  Indians  throughout  the 
whole  of  the  United  States,  encouraged  by  the  repeated 
disasters  of  our  armies  in  the  northwest,  had  become  very 
unsteady,  and  menacing  in  their  intercourse  with  the 
whites.  The  Creeks  and  Cherokees,  in  the  south,  were 
already  in  arms,  while  the  Oneidas,  Tuscaroras,  &c.  in 
the  north,  were  evidently  preparing  for  hostilities.  The 
shock  of  the  victory  at  the  Rapids,  however,  was  felt  in 
ill  quarters.  The  southern  Indians  instantly  demanded 
peace;  the  Oneidas,  conscious  of  their  evil  intentions,  and 
fearful  of  the  consequences,  became  suddenly  affectionate 
even  to  servility;  and  within  a few  months  after  the  vic- 
tory, all  the  frontiers  enjoyed  the  most  profound  peace. 
Wayne  reported  his  loss  at  thirty-three  killed  and  one 
hundred  wounded.  The  Indian  loss  could  not  be  ^ascer- 
tained, but  was  supposed  to  exceed  that  of  the  Americans. 
This,  however,  is  very  doubtful,  as  they  gave  way  imme- 
diately, and  were  not  so  much  exposed  a3  the  continentals. 

One  circumstance  attending  their  flight  is  remarkable 
and  deserves  to  be  inserted.  Three  Indians  being  hard 
pressed  by  the  cavalry  upon  one  side,  and  the  infantry 


ANTHONY  WAYNE. 


2T8 

upon  the  other,  plunged  into  the  river  and  attempted  to 
swim  to  the  opposite  shore.  A runaway  negro  who  had  at- 
tached himself  to  the  American  army,  was  concealed  in 
the  bushes  upon  the  opposite  bank,  and  perceiving  three 
Indians  approaching  nearer  than  in  his  opinion  was  con- 
sistent with  the  security  of  his  hiding  place,  he  collected 
courage  enough  to  level  his  rifle  at  the  foremost,  as  he 
was  swimming,  and  shot  him  through  the  head.  The  other 
two  Indians  instantly  halted  in  the  water,  and  attempted 
to  drag  the  body  of  their  dead  companion  ashore.  The 
negro,  in  the  mean  time,  reloaded  his  gun  and  shot  ano- 
other  dead  upon  the  spot.  The  survivor  then  seized  hold 
of  both  bodies,  and  attempted,  with  a fidelity  which  seems 
astonishing,  to  bring  them  both  to  land.  The  negro  having 
had  leisure  to  reload  a second  time,  and  firing  from  his 
covert  upon  the  surviving  Indian,  wounded  him  mortally 
while  struggling  with  the  dead  bodies.  He  then  ventured 
to  approach  them,  and  from  the  striking  resemblance  of 
their  features,  as  well  as  their  devoted  attachment,  they 
were  supposed  to  have  been  brothers.  After  scalping 
them,  he  permitted  their  bodies  to  float  down  the  stream. 

We  shall  conclude  our  sketches  with  an  anecdote,  which, 
although  partaking  somewhat  of  the  marvelous,  is  too  well 
authenticated  to  be  rejected.  Early  in  the  spring  of  1793, 
two  boys  by  the  name  of  Johnson,  the  one  twelve,  the 
other  nine  years  of  age,  were  playing  on  the  banks  of 
Short  Creek,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Muskingum,  and  oc- 
casionally skipping  stones  in  the  water.  At  a distance, 
they  beheld  two  men,  dressed  like  ordinary  settlers,  in 
hats  and  coats,  who  gradually  approached  them,  and  from 
lime  to  time,  threw  stones  into  the  water  in  imitation  of 
the  children.  At  length,  when  within  one  nundred  yards 
of  the  boys,  they  suddenly  threw  off  the  mask,  and  rushing 
rapidly  upon  them,  made  them  prisoners.  They  proved 
to  be  Indians  of  the  Delawaretribe.  Taking  the  children 
in  their  arms,  they  ran  hastily  into  the  woods,  and  after  a 
rapid  march  of  about  six  miles,  encamoed  for  the  night. 
Having  kindled  a fire  and  laid  their  rifles  and  tomahawks 
against  an  adjoining  tree,  they  lay  down  to  rest,  each  with 
a boy  in  his  arms. 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


274 

The  children  as  may  readily  be  supposed,  were  too  much 
agitated  to  sleep.  The  eldest  at  length  began  to  move 
his  limbs  cautiously,  and  finding  that  the  Indian  who  held 
him  remained  fast  asleep,  he  gradually  disengaged  himself 
from  his  arms,  and  walking  to  the  fire  which  had  burned 
low,  remained  several  minutes  in  suspense  as  to  what  was 
next  to  be  done.  Having  stirred  the  fire, and  ascertained 
by  its  light  the  exact  position  of  the  enemy’s  arms,  he 
whispered  softly  to  his  brother  to  imitate  his  example,  and 
if  possible,  extricate  himself  from  his  keeper.  The  little 
fellow  did  as  his  brother  directed,  and  both  stood  irresolute 
for  several  minutes  around  the  fire.  At  length,  the  eldest, 
who  was  of  a very  resolute  disposition,  proposed  that  they 
should  kill  the  sleeping  Indians,  and  return  home.  The 
eldest  pointed  to  one  of  the  guns,  and  assured  his  brother 
that  if  he  would  only  pull  the  trigger  of  that  gun  after  he 
had  placed  it  in  rest,  he  would  answer  for  the  other  Indian. 

The  plan  was  soon  agreed  upon.  The  rifle  was  leveled 
with  the  muzzle  resting  upon  a log  which  lay  near,  and 
having  stationed  his  brother  at  the  breech  with  positive 
directions  not  to  touch  the  trigger  until  he  gave  the  word, 
he  seized  a tomahawk  and  advanced  cautiously  to  the  other 
sleeper.  Such  was  the  agitation  of  the  younger,  however, 
that  he  touched  the  trigger  too  soon,  and  the  report  of  his 
gun  awakened  the  other  Indian  before  his  brother  was 
quite  prepared.  He  struck  the  blow,  however,  with  firm- 
ness, although,  in  the  hurry  of  the  act,  it  was  done  with 
the  blunt  part  of  the  hatchet,  and  only  stunned  his  anta- 
gonist. Quickly  repeating  the  blow,  however,  with  the 
edge,  he  inflicted  a deep  wound  upon  the  Indian’s  head, 
and  after  repeated  strokes,  left  him  lifeless  upon  the  spot. 
The  younger,  frightened  at  the  explosion  of  his  own  gun, 
had  already  betaken  himself  to  his  heels,  and  was  with 
difficulty  overtaken  by  his  brother.  Having  regained  the 
road  by  which  they  had  advanced,  the  elder  fixed  his  hat 
upon  a bush  in  order  to  mark  the  spot,  and  by  daylight 
they  had  regained  their  homes. 

They  found  their  mother  in  an  agony  of  grief  for  their 
loss,  and  ignorant,  whether  they  had  been  drowned  or 
taken  by  the  Indians.  Their  tale  was  heard  with  aston- 


ANTHONY  WAYNE. 


275 

ishment,  not  unmingled  with  incredulity,  and  a few  of  the 
neighbors  insisted  upon  accompanying  them  instantly  to 
the  spot,  where  so  extraordinary  a renconter  had  occurred. 
The  place  was  soon  found,  and  the  truth  of  the  boy’s  story 
placed  beyond  doubt.  The  tomahawked  Indian  lay  in  his 
blood,  where  he  fell,  but  the  one  who  had  been  shot  was 
not  to  be  found.  A broad  trail  of  blood,  however,  enabled 
them  to  trace  his  footsteps,  and  he  was  at  length  overtaken. 
His  appearance  was  most  ghastly.  His  under  jaw  had 
been  entirely  shot  away,  and  his  hands  and  breast  were 
covered  with  clotted  blood.  Although,  evidently  much 
exhausted,  he  still  kept  his  pursuers  at  bay,  and  faced  them 
from  time  to  time  with  an  air  of  determined  resolution. 
Either  his  gory  appearance,  or  the  apprehension  that  more 
were  in  the  neighborhood,  had  such  an  effect  upon  his 
pursuers,  that  notwithstanding  their  numbers,  he  was  per- 
mitted to  escape.  Whether  he  survived  or  perished  in 
the  wilderness,  could  never  be  ascertained*,  but  from  the 
severity  of  the  wound,  the  latter  supposition  is  most  pro- 
bable. 

From  the  peace  of  1794,  down  to  the  renewal  of  war  in 
ihe  northwest,  under  the  auspices  of  Tecumseh  and  the 
Prophet,  no  event  occurred  of  sufficient  importance  to 
claim  our  notice.  The  war  waS  overhand  even  private 
and  individual  aggression  was  of  rare  occurrence.  The 
country  which  had  been  the  scene  of  those  fierce  conflicts 
which  we  have  endeavored  to  relate,  became  settled  with 
s.  rapidity  totally  unprecedented  in  the  annals  of  the  world. 
The  forests  became  rapidly  thinned,  and  the  game  equally 
as  rapidly  disappeared.  Numerous  villages,  as  if  by  en- 
chantment, were  daily  springing  up  in  those  wild  scenes, 
where  Kenton,  Crawford,  Slover,  and  Johnstoir,  had  endur  - 
vid  such  sufferings;  and  the  Indians,  from  fierce  and  nu. 
merous  tribes,  were  gradually  melting  down  to  a few 
squalid  wanderers,  hovering  like  restless  spirits  around 
the  scenes  of  their  former  glory,  or  driven,  with  insult, 
from  the  doors  of  the  settlers,  where  they  were  perpetu- 
ally calling  for  food  and  rum.  Such  wanderers  were  fre- 
quently murdered  by  lawless  white  men,  who,  like  the 
rovers  of  old,  contended  that  u there  was  no  peace  beyond 


576 


WESTERN  ADVENTURE. 


the  line,”  and  as  such  offences  were  rarely  punished,  the 
Indians  at  length  became  satisfied  that  they  must  either 
retire  beyond  the  reach  of  the  whites,  or  make  one  last 
effort  to  retrieve  the  sinking  fortunes  of  their  race.  Te- 
cumseh  was  the  great  apostle  of  this  reviving  spirit,  and 
to  do  him  justice,  displayed  a .genius  and  perseverance 
worthy  of  a better  fate.  As  these  events,  however,  are 
beyond  our  limits,  we  must  refer  the  young  reader,  who 
may  have  accompanied  us  thus  far,  to  the  histories  of  the 
day,  where  his  curiosity  will  be  amply  gratified. 


APPENDIX. 


In  the  life  of  Kenton,  we  had  occasion  to  refer  to  vari- 
ous names  and  circumstances,  which,  in  our  anxiety  to 
preserve  the  unity  and  connexion  of  the  narrative,  we 
passed  over  very  slightly  at  the  time,  reserving  a more  full 
detail  for  the  present  place.  We  allude  to  the  celebrated 
war  upon  the  Ivenhawa,  generally  known  by  the  name  of 
Dunmore’s  expedition,  in  which  the  names  of  Logan, 
Lewis,  Girty,  Cornstalk,  (fee.,  figure  conspicuously.  Many 
and  various  reasons  have  been  assigned  for  this  war.  Some 
have  attributed  it  to  the  murder  of  Logan’s  family  by 
Cressup,  others  to  the  equally  atrocious  murder  of  “ Bald 
Eagle,”  a celebrated  Delaware  chief.  Both,  probably, 
contributed  to  hasten  the  rupture,  which,  however,  would 
unquestionably  have  taken  place  without  either.  The 
cause  of  this,  as  of  all  other  Indian  wars,  is  to  be  found  in 
the  jealousy  and  uneasiness  with  which  the  Indians  be- 
held the  rapid  extension  of  the  white  settlements.  After 
the  peace  of  1763,  large  tracts  of  land  in  the  west  had 
been  assigned,  as  bounties,  to  such  officers  and  soldiers  as 
had  fought  throughout  the  war.  Accordingly,  as  soon  as 
peace  was  restored,  crowds  of  emigrants-  hastened  to  the 
west,  attended  by  the  usual  swarm  of  surveyors,  specula- 
tors, <fec.  The  inhabitants  of  the  frontiers  became  mingled 
with  the  Indians.  They  visited  and  received  visits  from 
each  other,  and  frequently  met  in  their  hunting  parties. 
Peace  existed  between  the  nations,  but  the  old,  vindictive 
feelings,  occasioned  by  mutual  injuries,  still  rankled  in  the 
breast  of  individuals.  Civilities  were  quickly  followed  by 
murders,  which  led  to  retaliation,  remonstrances,  promises 
of  amendment,  and  generally  closed  with  fresh  murders. 

The  murder  of  “ Bald  Eagle,”  an  aged  Delaware  sa- 
chem, was  peculiarly  irritating  to  that  warlike  nation.  He 
'Spoke  the  English  language  with  great  fluency,  and  being 

.277 


278 


APPENDIX* 


remarkably  fond  of  tobacco,  sweetmeats,  anc  rum,  all  of 
which  were  generally  offered  to  him  in  profusion  in  the 
settlements,  he  was  a frequent  visiter  at  the  fort  erected  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Kenhawa,  and  familiarly  acquainted  even 
with  the  children.  He  usually  ascended  the  river  alone, 
in  a bark  canoe,  and  from  the  frequency  and  harmlessness 
of  his  visits,  his  appearance  never  excited  the  least  alarm. 
A white  man  who  had  suffered  much  from  the  Indians, 
encountered  the  old  chief  one  evening,  alone  upon  the 
river,  returning  peaceably  from  one  of  his  usual  visits. 
A conference  ensued,  which  terminated  in  a quarrel,  and 
the  old  man  was  killed  upon  the  spot.  The  murderer, 
having  scalped  his  victim,  fixed  the  dead  body  in  the  usual 
sitting  posture  in  the  stern  of  the  boat,  replaced  the  pipe 
in  his  mouth,  and  launching  the  canoe  again  upon  the 
river,  permitted  it  to  float  down  with  its  burden,  undisturb- 
ed. Many  settlers  beheld  it  descending  in  this  manner, 
but  from  the  upright  posture  of  the  old  man,  they  suppo- 
sed that  he  was  only  returning  as  usual  from  a visit  to  the 
whites.  The  truth,  however,  was  quickly  discovered, 
and  inflamed  his  tribe  with  the  most  ungovernable  rage. 
Vengeance  was  vowed  for  the  outrage,  and  amply  exacted. 

At  length,  hostilities  upon  this  remote  frontier  became 
so  serious,  as  to  demand  the  attention  of  government 
One  of  the  boldest  of  these  forays,  was  conducted  by 
Logan  in  person.  Supposing  that  the  inhabitants  of  the 
interior  would  consider  themselves  secure  from  the  In 
dians,  and  neglect  those  precautions  which  were  generally 
used  upon  the  frontier,  he  determined,  with  a small  but 
select  band  of  followers,  to  penetrate  to  the  thick  settle- 
ments upon  the  head  waters  of  the  Monongahela,  and 
wreak  his  vengeance  upon  its  unsuspecting  inhabitants^ 
The  march  was  conducted  with  the  usual  secrecy  of  In- 
dian warriors,  and  with  great  effect.  Many  scalps  and 
several  prisoners  were  taken,  with  which,  by  the  signal 
conduct  of  their  chief,  they  were  enabled  to  elude  all  pur- 
suit, and  return  in  safety  to  their  towns. 

One  of  the  incidents  attending  this  incursion,  deserves 
to  be  mentioned,  as  illustrating  the  character  of  Logan* 
While  hovering,  with  his  followers,  around  the  skirts  of  a 
thick  settlement,  he  suddenly  came  within  view  of  a small 
field,  recently  cleared,  in  which  three  men  were  pulling 
Ha x.  Causing  the  greater  part  of  his  men  to  remain, 


APPENDIX. 


279 


where  they  were,  Logan,  together  with  two  others,  crept 
np  within  long  shot  of  the  white  men  and  fired.  One 
man  fell  dead,  the  remaining  two  attempted  to  escape. 
The  elder  of  the  fugitives  (Hellew,)  was  quickly  overtaken 
and  made  prisoner  by  Logan’s  associates,  while  Logan 
himself,  having  thrown  down  his  rifle,  pressed  forward 
alone  in  pursuit  of  the  younger  of  the  white  men,  whose 
name  was  Robinson.  The  contest  was  keen  for  several 
hundred  yards,  but  Robinson,  unluckily,  looking  around, 
in  order  to  have  a view  of  his  pursuer,  ran  against  a tree 
with  such  violence  as  completely  to  stun  him,  and  render 
him  insensible  for  several  minutes. 

Upon  recovering,  he  found  himself  bound  and  lying 
upon  his  back,  while  Logan  sat  by  his  side,  with  unmoved 
gravity,  awaiting  his  recovery.  He  was  then  compelled 
to  accompany  them  in  their  further  attempts  upon  the  set- 
tlements, and  in  the  course  of  a few  days,  was  marched 
oflf  with  great  rapidity  fcv  their  villages  in  Ohio.  During 
the  march,  Logan  remained  silent  and  melancholy,  proba- 
bly brooding  over  the  total  destruction  of  his  family.  The 
prisoners,  however,  were  treated  kindly,  until  they  arrived 
at  an  Indian  village  upon  the  Muskingum.  When  within 
a mile  of  the  town,  Logan  became  more  animated,  and 
uttered  the  “ scalp  halloo”  several  times,  in  the  most  ter- 
rible tones.  The  never  failing  scene  of  insult  and  torture 
then  began.  Crowds  flocked  out  to  meet  them,  and  a line 
was  formed  for  the  gauntlet. 

Logan  took  no  share  in  the  cruel  game,  but  did  not  at- 
tempt to  repress  it.  He,  however,  gave  Robinson,  whom 
he  regarded  as  his  own  prisoner,  some  directions  as  to  the 
best  means  of  reaching  the  council  house  in  safety,  and 
displayed  some  anxiety  for  his  safe  arrival,  while  poor 
Hellew  was  left  in  total  ignorance,  and  permitted  to  strug- 
gle forward  as  he  best  could.  Robinson,  under  the  pat- 
i*nage  of  Logan,  escaped  with  a few  slight  bruises,  but 
Hellew,  not  knowing  where  to  run,  was  dreadfully  man* 
gled,  and  would  probably  have  been  killed  upon  the  spot, 
had  not  Robinson  (not  without  great  risk  on  his  own  part) 
seized  him  by  the  hand  and  dragged  him  into  the  council 
house. 

On  the  following  morning,  a council  was  called  in  order 
to  determine  their  fate,  in  which  Logan  held  a conspicuous 
superiority  over  all  who  were  assembled.  Hellew’s  des~ 


280 


APPENDIX. 


tiny  came  first  under  discussion,  and  was  quickly  decided 
by  an  almost  unanimous  vote  of  adoption.  Robinson’* 
was  most  difficult  to  determine.  A majority  of  the  council, 
(partly  influenced  by  a natural  thirst  for  vengeance  upon 
at  least  one  object,  partly,  perhaps,  by  a lurking  jealousy 
of  the  imposing  superiority  of  Logan’s  character,)  were 
obstinately  bent  upon  putting  him  toxleath.  Logan  spoke 
for  nearly  an  hour  upon  the  question;  and  if  Robinson  is 
o be  believed,  with  an  energy,  copiousness,  and  dignity, 
which  would  not  have  disgraced  Henry  himself.  He 
appeared  at  no  loss  for  either  words  or  ideas;  his  tones 
were  deep  and  musical,  and  were  heard  by  the  assembly 
with  the  silence  of  death.  All,  however,  was  vain.  Rob- 
inson was  condemned,  and  within  an  hour  afterwards,  was 
fastened  to  the  stake.  Logan  stood  apart  from  the  crowd 
with  his  arms  folded,  and  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  seen* 
with  an  air  of  stern  displeasure. 

When  the  fire  was  about  to  be  applied,  he  suddenly 
strode  into  the  circle,  pushing  aside  those  who  stood  in 
the  way,  and  advancing  straight  up  to  the  stake,  cut  the 
cords  with  his  .tomahawk,  and  taking  the  prisoner  by  the 
hand,  led  him  with  a determined  air  to  his  own  wigwam. 
The  action  was  so  totally  unexpected,  and  the  air  of  the 
chief  so  determined,  that  he  had  reached  the  door  of  his 
wigwam  before  any  one  ventured  to  interfere.  Much  dis- 
satisfaction was  then  expressed,  and  threatening  symptoms 
of  a tumult  appeared;  but  so  deeply  rooted  was  his  author- 
ity, that  in  a few  hours  all  was  quiet,  and  Robinson,  with- 
out opposition,  was  permitted  to  enter  an  Indian  family. 
He  remained  with  Logan  until  the  treaty  of  Fort  Pitt,  in 
the  autumn  of  the  ensuing  year,  when  he  returned  to  Vir- 
ginia. He  ever  retained  the  most  unbounded  admiration 
for  Logan,  and  repeatedly  declared  that  his  countenance, 
when  speaking,  was  the  most  striking,  varied,  and  im- 
pressive, that  he  ever  beheld.  And  when  it  is  recollected 
that  he  had  often  heard  Lee  and  Henry,  in  all  their  glory, 
the  compliment  must  be  regarded  as  a very  high  one. 

This,  together  with  various  other  marauding  expedi- 
tions, generally  carried  on  by  small  parties,  determined 
the  governor  of  Virginia  (Dunmore)  to  assemble  a large 
force  and  carry  the  war  into  their  own  territories.  The 
plan  of  the  expedition  was  soon  arranged.  Three  com- 
plete  regiments  were  to  be  raised  west  of  the  Blue  Ridge 


APPENDIX. 


281 


under  the  command  of  General  Andrew  Lewis  ; while  an 
equal  force,  from  the  interior,  was  commanded  by  Dun- 
more  in  persom  The  armies  were  to  form  a junction  at 
ihe  mouth  of  the  Great  Kenhawa,  and  proceed  together 
under  Dunmore;.to  the  Indian  towns  in  Ohio. 

On  the  1st  September,  1774,  a part  of  General  Lewis’ 
division,  consisting  of  two  regiments,  under  the  orders  of 
Colonel  Charles  Lewis,  his  brother,  and  Colonel  William 
Fleming,  of  Botetourt,  rendezvoused  at  Camp  Union,  (now 
Lewisburgh,  Va.)  where  they  were  joined  by  an  indepen- 
dent regiment  of  backwoods  volunteers,  under  the  orders 
of  Colonel  John  Fields,  a very  distinguished  officer,  who, 
together  with  most  of  those  now  assembled,  had  served 
under  Braddock.  Here  they  remained,  awaiting  the  arrival 
of  Colonel  Christian,  wrho  wTas  busily  engaged  in  assem- 
bling another  regiment.  By  the  junction  of  Field,  Lewis’ 
force  amounted  to  about  eleven  hundred  men,  accustomed 
to  danger,  and  conducted  by  the  flower  of  the  border  offi- 
cers. General  Lewis,  as  well  as  his  brother,  had  been 
present  at  Braddock’s  defeat,  and  were  subaltern  officers  in 
two  companies  of  Virginia  riflemen,  who  formed  the  ad- 
vance of  the  English  army. 

We  shall  here  relate  some  circumstances  attending  that 
melancholy  disaster,  which  are  not  to  be  found  in  the  regu- 
lar histories  of  the  period.  Braddock’s  battle  ground  was 
a small  bottom,  containing  not  more  than  two  acres,  bound- 
ed on  the  east  by  the  Monongahela,  and  upon  the  west  by 
a high  cliff  which  rises  precipitately  above  the  bottom,  and 
which,  together  with  the  river,  completely  enclosed  it. 
Through  this  cliff,  and  near  its  center,  runs  a deep  gorge 
or  ravine,  the  sides  of  which  are  nearly  perpendicular,  and 
the  summits  of  which  were- at  that  time  thickly  covered 
with  timber,  rank  grass,  and  thickets  of  underwood.  Upon 
this  cliff,  the  Indian  army  lay  in  ambush,  awaiting  the  ar- 
rival of  their  foe.  The  only  passage  for  the  English  lay 
through  the  ravine,  immediately  in  front  of  the  ford.  The 
two  companies  of  rangers  crossed  the  river  in  advance  of 
the  regulars,  and  suspecting  no  danger,  immediately  enter- 
ed the  mouth  of  the  ravine.  Braddock  followed  in  close 
column,  and  the  devoted  army  soon  stood  in  the  bottom 
already  mentioned,  the  river  in  the  rear,  the  cliff  in  front, 
and  the  ravine  presenting  the  only  practicable  passage  to 
the  French  fort. 


282 


APPENDIX. 


Instantly  a tremendous  fire  opened  upon  them  from  the 
cliff  above,  and  as  the  small  bottom  was  thronged  with  red 
coats,  immense  execution  was  done.  In  the  mean  time, 
the  two  devoted  companies  of  rangers  were  more  than  one 
hundred  yards  in  front,  and  completely  buried  in  the  gorge 
already  mentioned.  Upon  hearing  the  firing  in  their  rear, 
they  attempted  to  rejoin  the  army,  but  a select  corps  of  In- 
dian warriors  rushed  down  the  steep  banks  of  the  ravine 
and  blocked  up  the  passage.  A furious  struggle  ensued. 
The  Indians  could  not  possibly  give  way,  as  the  banks 
were  too  steep  to  admit  of'  retreat  in  that  direction  ; and 
if  they  retired  through  the  mouth  of  the  ravine  into  the  bot- 
tom below,  they  would  have  found  themselves  in  the  midst 
of  the  English  ranks.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Virginians 
were  desperately  bent  upon  rejoining  their  friends,  which 
could  only  be  done  over  the  bodies  of  the  Indians.  Thus 
the  gorge  became  the  theater  of  a separate  battle,  far  more 
desperate  than  that  which  raged  in  the  bottom  or  upon  the 
cliffs. 

j In  these  two  companies,  were  to  be  found  many  names 
afterwards  highly  distinguished  both  in  the  Indian  and 
British  war.  Here  was  general  Lewis  and  his  five  brothers; 
Colonel  Matthews,  afterwards  so  distinguished  at  German- 
town, together  with  four  of  his  brothers;  Colonel  John 
Field,  afterwards  killed  at  Point  Pleasant ; Colonel  Grant, 
of  Kentucky,  John  ‘McDowell,  and  several  others,  after- 
wards well  known  in  Virginia  and  Kentucky.  The  press 
was  too  great  to  admit  of  the  rifle.  Knives  and  tomahawks 
were  their  only  weapons,  and  upon  both  sides  (for  the 
numbers  engaged)  the  slaughter  was  prodigious.  One  half 
the  Virginians  were  left  dead  in  the  pass,  and  most  of  the 
survivors  were  badly  wounded.  The  Indians  suffered 
equally,  and  at  length  became  so  much  thinngd  as  to  afford* 
room  for  the  Virginians  to  pass  them  and  rejoin  their  friends 
below.  There  all  was  dismay  and  death.  Braddock,  un- 
able from  the  nature  of  the  ground  to  charge  with  effect, 
and  too  proud  to  retreat  before  an  enemy  whom  he  despis- 
ed, was  actively,  and  as  calmly  as  if  upon  parade,  laboring 
to-  form  his  troops  under  a fire  which  threatened  to  annihi- 
late every  thing  within  its  range.  The  event  is  well  known. 

Upon  the  fall  of  Braddock,  the  troops  gave  way,  and  re- 
pressing the  river,  rejoined  the  rear  guard  of  the  army, 
'•after  a defeat,  which  then  had  no,  parallel  .in  Inclian  warfareo 


APPENDIX. 


283 


Colonel  Lewis  afterwards  served  as  major  in  Washington’s 
regiment,  and  ranked  peculiarly  high  in  the  estimation  of 
his  illustrious  commander.  He  accompanied  Grant  in  his 
unfortunate  masquerade,  and  in  a brave  attempt  with  the 
colonial  troops  to  retrieve  the  fortune  of  the  day,  was 
wounded  and  made  prisoner  by  the  French.  W hile  he  and 
Grant  were  together  at  Fort  Du  Quesne,  upon  parole,  a 
quarrel  took  place  between  them,  much  to  the  amusement 
of  the  French.  Grant,  in  his  despatches,  had  made  Lewis 
the  scapegoat,  and  thrown  the  whole  blame  of  the  defeat 
upon  him;  whereas,  in  truth,  the  only  execution  that  was 
done,  was  effected  by  his  Virginia  troops.  The  despatches 
fell  into  the  hands  of  some  Indians,  who  brought  them  to 
the  French  commandant.  Captain  Lewis  happened  to 
be  present  when  they  w"ere  opened,  and  was  quickly  in- 
formed of  their  contents. 

Without  uttering  a wxttd,  he  went  in  search  of  Grant, 
reproached  him  with  the  falsehood,  and  putting  his  hand 
upon  his  sword,  directed  his  former  commander  to  draw"  and 
defend  himself  upon  the  spot.  Grant  contemptuously  re- 
fused to  comply,  upon  whieh*Lewris  lost  all- temper,  cursed 
him  for  a liar  and  a coward,  and  in  the  presence  of  twro 
French  officers  spit  in  his  face.  General  Lewds’  person 
considerably  exceeded  six  feet  in  height,  and  wras  at  once 
strongly  and  handsomely  formed.  His  countenance  \vas 
manly  and  stern — strongly  expressive  of  that'  fearlessness 
and  energy  of  character  which  distinguished  him  through 
Life.  His  manners  were  plain,  cold,  and  unbending,  and 
his  conversation  short,  pithy,  and  touching  only  upon  the 
44  needful.”  At  the  general  treaty  with  the  Indian  tribes  in 
1763,  General  Lewis  wTas  present,  and  his  fine  military  ap- 
pearance attracted  great  attention,  and  inspired  somewffiat 
of  awe  among  the  more  pacific  deputies.  The  governor  of 
New- York  declared  that  he  44  looked  like  the  genius  of  the 
forest;  and  that  the  earth  seemed  to  tremble  beneath  his 
footsteps.” 

Such  as  we  have  described  him,  he?was  row  placed  at 
the  head  of  one  thousand  men,  with  orders  to  meet  Dun- 
more  at  Point  Pleasant.  Having  w-aited  several  days  at 
Lewisburgh  for  Colonel  Christian,  without  hearing  from 
‘him,  he  determined  no  longer  to  delay  his  advance.  Gn 
rthe  11th  of  September,  he  left  Lewisbuigh,  and  without 
atny  adventure  of . importance,  arrived  at  theLcancerted^plaoe 


284 


APPENDIX. 


of  rendezvous.  Dunmore  had  not  yet  arrived,  and  Lewis' 
remained  several  days  in  anxious  expectation  of  his  ap- 
proach. At  length,  he  received  despatches  from  the  gov- 
ernor, informing  him  that  he  had  changed  his  plan,  and  had 
determined  to  move  directly  upon  the  Scioto  villages,  at  the 
same  time  ordering  Lewis  to  cross  the  Ohio  and  join  him. 

Although  not  much  gratified  at  this  sudden  change  of  a 
plan  which  had  been  deliberately  formed,  Lewis  prepared 
to  obey,  and  had  issued  directions  for  the  construction  of 
rafts,  boats,  &c.,  in  which  to  cross  the  Ohio  ; when  on  the 
morning  of  the  10th  October,  two  of  his  hunters  came  run- 
ning  into  camp,  with  the  intelligence  that  a body  of  Indians 
was  at  hand,  which  covered  “ four  acres  of  ground.” 

Upon  this  news,  the  general  (having  first  lit  his  pipe) 
directed  his  brother,  Colonel  Charles  Lewis,  to  proceed 
with  his  own  regiment,  and  that  of  Colonel  Fleming,  and 
reconnoiter  the  ground  where  the  enemy  had  been  seen, 
while  he  held  the  remainder  of  the  army  ready  to  support 
him.  Colonel  Charles  Lewis  instantly  advanced  in  the 
execution  of  his  orders,  and  at  the  distance  of  a mile  from 
camp,  beheld  a large  body  of  the  enemy  advancing  rap- 
idly in  hope  of  surprising  the  Virginian  camp.  The 
sun  was  just  rising  as  the  renconter  took  place,  and  in  a 
few  minutes  the  action  became  warm  and  bloody.  Colo* 
nel  Charles  Lewis  being  much  exposed,  and  in  full  uni- 
form, was  mortally  wounded  early  in  the  action,  as  was 
Colonel  Fleming,  the  second  in  command.  The  troops 
having  great  confidence  in  Colonel  Lewis,  were  much  dis- 
couraged, and  being  hard  pressed  by  the  enemy,  at  length 
gave  way,  and  attempted  to  regain  the  camp.  At  this  criti- 
cal moment,  General  Lewis  ordered  up  Field’s  regiment, 
which,  coming  handsomely  into  action,  restored  the  fortune 
of  the  day.  The  Indians,  in  turn,  were  routed,  and  com-* 
pelled  to  retire  to  a spot  where  they  had  erected  a rough, 
breastwork  of  logs. 

The  action  was  fought  in  the  narrow  point  of  land  formed 
by  the  junction  of  the  Ohio  and  Kenhawa.  The  Indian 
breastwork  was  formed  from  one  river  to  the  other,  so  as 
to  enclose  the  Virginians  within  the  point ; of  course  the 
breastwork  formed  the  base,  and  the  Virginian  camp  the 
vqrtex  of  the  triangle,  of  which  the  rivers  were  sides. 
Here  they  rallied  in  full  force,  and  appeared  determined  to 
abide  the  brunt  of  the  Virginian  force.  Logan.,  Cornstalk, 


APPENDIX. 


Elenipsico,  Red  Eagle,  and  many  other  celebrated  chief* 
were  present,  and  were  often  heard  loudly  encouraging 
their  warriors.  Cornstalk,  chief  Sachem  of  the  Shawnees, 
and  leader  of  the  northern  confederacy,  was  particularly 
conspicuous.  As  the  repeated  efforts  of  the  whites  to  carry 
the  breastwork  became  more  warm  and  determined,  the  In- 
dian line  began  to  waver,  and  several  were  seen  to  give 
way.  Cornstalk,  in  a moment,  was  upon  the  spot,  and 
was  heard  distinctly  to  shout  “ Be  strong ! Be  strong !”  in 
tones  which  rose  above  the  din  of  the  conflict.  He  buried 
his  hatchet  in  the  head  of  one  of  his  warriors,  and  indig- 
nantly shaming  the  rest,  completely  restored  the  battle, 
which  raged  until  four  o’clock  in  the  afternoon,  without 
any  decisive  result.  The  Virginians  fought  with  distin- 
guished bravery,  and  suffered  severely  in  those  repeated 
charges  upon  the  breastwork,  but  were  unable  to  make  any 
impression.  The  Indians  towards  evening,  despatched  a 
part  of  their  force  to  cross  both  rivers,  in  order  to  prevent 
the  escape  of  a man  of  the  Virginians,  should  victory  turn 
against  them. 

At  length  General  Lewis,  alarmed  at  the  extent  of  his 
loss,  and  the  obstinacy  of  the  enemy,  determined  to  make 
an  effort  to  turn  their  flank  with  three  companies,  and  at- 
tack them  in  rear.  By  the  aid  of  a small  stream,  which 
empties  into  the  Kenhawa,  a short  distance  above  its 
mouth,  and  which  at  that  time  had  high  and  bushy  banks, 
he  was  enabled  to  gain  their  rear  with  a small  force,  com- 
manded by  Captain  (afterwards  governor)  Isaac  Shelby. 
Cornstalk  instantly  ordered  a retreat,  which  was  performed 
in  a masterly  manner,  and  with  a very  slight  loss,  the  In- 
dians alternately  advancing  and  retreating  in  such  a man- 
ner as  to  hold  the  whites  in  check,  until  dark,  when  the 
whole  body  disappeared.  The  loss  of  the  Virginians  was 
severe,  and  amounted  in  killed  and  wounded  to  one  fourth 
of  their  whole  number.  The  Indian  loss  was  compara- 
tively trifling.  The  action  was  shortly  followed  by  a trea- 
ty, at  which  all  the  chiefs  were  present  except  Logan,  who 
refused  to  be  included  in  it.  He  wandered  among  the 
northwestern  tribes,  for  several  years,  like  a restless  spirit, 
and  finally  in  utter  recklessness,  became  strongly  addicted 
to  gaming  and  the  use  of  ardent  spirits.  He  was  at  length 
murdered  on  a solitary  journey  from  Detroit  to  the  north- 


3586 


Ar^EJNDIX. 


eastern  part  of  Ohio,  as  is  generally  supposed  by  his  own 
nephew. 

It  is  not  a little  singular,  that  the  three  celebrated  Indian 
chiefs  who  commanded  in  the  battle  at  the  Point,  should 
all  have  been  murdered,  and  that  two  of  them  should  have 
met  their  fate  upon  the  same  spot  which  had  witnessed 
their  brave  efforts  to  repress  the  extension  of  the  white 
settlements.  Cornstalk  and  Elenipsico,  his  son,  were  killed 
during  a friendly  visit  to  Point  Pleasant,  in  the  summer  of 
1775,  only  a few  months  after  the  action.  The  circum- 
stances attending  the  affair  are  thus  related  by  Colonel 
Stewart  *. 

“ A Captain  Arbuckle  commanded  the  garrison  of  the 
fort  erected  at  Point  Pleasant  after  the  battle  fought  by 
General  Lewis  with  the  Indians  at  that  place,  in  October, 
1774.  In  the  succeeding  year,  when  the  revolutionary 
war  had  commenced,  the  agents  of  Great  Britain  exerted 
themselves  to  excite  the  Indians  to  hostility  against  the 
United  States.  The  mass  of  the  Shawnees  entertained  a 
strong  animosity  against  the  Americans.  But,  two  of  theii 
chiefs.  Cornstalk  and  Red  Hawk,  not  participating  in  that 
animosity,  visited  the  garrison  at  the  Point,  where  Arbuckle 
continued  to  command.  Colonel  Stewart  was  at  the  post 
in  the  character  of  a volunteer,  and  was  an  eye-witness  of 
the  facts  which  he  relates.  Cornstalk  represented  his  un- 
willingness to  take  a part  in  the  war,  on  the  British  side : 
but  stated,  that  his  nation,  except  himself  and  his  tribe, 
were  determined  on  war  with  us,  and  he  supposed,  that 
he  and  his  people  would  be  compelled  to  go  with  the 
stream. 

On  this  intimation,  Arbuckle  resolved  to  detain  the  two 
chiefs,  and  a third  Shawnee  who  came  with  them  to  the 
fort,  as  hostages,  under  the  expectation  of  preventing  there^ 
by  any  hostile  efforts  of  the  nation.  On  the  day  before 
these  unfortunate  Indians  fell  victims  to  the  fury  of  the 
garrison,  Elenipsico,  the  son  of  Cornstalk,  repaired  to 
Point  Pleasant  for  the  purpose  of  visiting  his  father,  and 
on  the  next  day,  two  men  belonging  to  the  garrison,  whose 
names  were  Hamilton  and  Gillmore,  crossed  the  Kenhawa, 
intending  to  hunt  in  the  woods  beyond  it.  On  their  return 
from  hunting, ’some  Indians  who  had  come  to  view  the  po- 
sition at  the  Point,  concealed  themselves  in  the  weeds  near 
i hs  month  of  Ihe  ILenhawa*  and  killed  Gillmore  while  ea- 


APPENDIX. 


287 


deavoring  to  pass  them.  Colonel  Stewart  and  Captain 
Arbuckle  were  standing  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river 
at  that  time,  and  were  surprised  that  a gun  had  been  fired 
so  near  the  fort,  in  violation  of  orders  which  had  been  is- 
sued inhibiting  such  an  act. 

Hamilton  ran  down  the  bank,  and  cried  out  that  Gillmore 
was  killed.  Captain  Hall  commanded  the  company  to 
which  Gillmore  belonged.  His  men  leaped  into  a canoe, 
and  hastened  to  the  relief  of  Hamilton.  They  brought  the 
body  of  Gillmore  weltering  in  blood,  and  the  head  scalped, 
across  the  river.  The  canoe  had  scarcely  reached  the  shore, 
when  Hall’s  men  cried  out  “ let  us  kill  the  Indians  in  the 
fort.”  Captain  Hall  placed  himself  in  front  of  his  soldiers, 
and  they  ascended  the  river’s  bank  pale  with  rage,  and  car- 
rying their  loaded  firelocks  in  their  hands.  Colonel  Stuart 
and  Captain  Arbuckle  exerted  themselves  in  vain,  to  dis- 
suade these  men,  exasperated  to  madness  by  the  spectacle 
of  Gillmore’s  corpse,  from  the  cruel  deed  which  they  con- 
templated. • They  cocked  their  guns,  threatening  those 
gentlemen  with  instant  death,  if  they  did  not  desist,  and 
rushed  into  the  fort. 

The  interpreter’s  wife,  who  had  been  a captive  among 
the  Indians,  and  felt  an  affection  for  them,  ran  to  their  cabin 
and  informed  them  that  Hall’s  soldiers  were  advancing, 
with  the  intention  of  taking  their  lives,  because  they  believ- 
ed, that  the  Indians  who  killed  Gillmore,  had  come  with 
Cornstalk’s  son  on  the  preceding  day.  This  the  young 
man  solemnly  denied,  and  averred  that  he  knew  nothing  of 
them.  His  father,  perceiving  that  Elenipsico  was  in  great 
agitation,  encouraged  him  and  advised  him  not  to  fear.  “ If 
the  great  Spirit,”  said  he,  “ has  sent  you  here  to  be  killed, 
you  ought  to  die  like  a -man!’’  As  the  soldiers  approached 
the  door,  Cornstalk  rose  to  meet  them,  and  received  seven 
or  eight  balls,  which  instantly  terminated  his  existence. 
His  son  was  shot  dead,  in  the  seat  which  he  occupied. 
The  Red-hawk  made  an  attempt  to  climb  the  chimney,  but 
fell  by  the  fire  of  some  of  Hall’s  men.  “ The  other  Indian.” 
says  Colonel  Stuart,  “ was  shamefully  mangled,  and  I 
grieved  to  see  him  so  long  dying.” 


*98 


APPENDIX. 


ST.  CLAIR’S  OFFICIAL  LETTER. 

Fort  Washington,  November  9,  1791. 

1‘Sir: — Yesterday  afternoon  the  remains  of  the  army 
under  my  command  got  back  to  this  place,  and  I have  now 
the  painful  task  to  give  an  account  of  a warm,  and  as  unfor- 
tunate an  action  as  almost  any  that  has  been  fought,  in 
^hich  every  corps  was  engaged  and  worsted,  except  the 
first  regiment,  that  had  been  detached  upon  a service  that  1 
had  the  honor  to  inform  you  of  in  my  last  despatch,  and 
had  not  joined  me. 

“ On  the  3d  inst.  the  army  had  reached  a creek  about 
twelve  yards  wide  running  to  the  southward  of  west,  which 
l believe  to  have  been  the  river  St.  Mary  that  empties  into 
the  Miami  of  the  lake,  arrived  at  the  village  about  4 o’clock 
in  the  afternoon,  having  marched  near  nine  miles,  and  were 
immediately  encamped  upon  a very  commanding  piece  of 
ground  in  two  lines,  having  the  above  mentioned  creek  in 
iront.  The  right  wing  composed  of  Butler,  Clark,  and 
Patterson’s  battalions,  commanded  by  Major  General  Butler, 
formed  the  first  line  ; and  the  left  wing,  consisting  of  Bed- 
inger  and  Gaither’s  battalions,  and  the  second  regimenX 
commanded  by  Colonel  Darke,  formed  the  second  line 
ivith  an  interval  between  them  of  about  seventy  yards, 
vhich  was  all  the  ground  would  allow. 

“ The  right  flank  was  pretty  well  secured  by  the  creek, 
t steep  bank,  and  Faulkner’s  corps.  Some  of  the  cavalry 
md  their  piquets  covered  the  left  flank.  The  militia  were 
sent  over  the  creek  and  advanced  about  one  quarter  of  a 
mile,  and  encamped  in  the  same  order.  There  were  a few 
Indians  who  appeared  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  creek, 
but  fled  writh  the  utmost  precipitation  on  the  advance  of  the 
militia.  At  this  place,  which  X judged  to  be  about  fifteen 
miles  from  the  Miami  villages,  I had  determined  to  throw 
up  a slight  work,  the  plan  of  which  was  concerted  that 
evening  with  Major  Ferguson,  wherein  to  have  deposited 
the  men’s  knapsacks,  and  every  thing  else  that  was  not  of 
absolute  necessity,  and  to  have  moved  on  to  attack  the  ene- 
my as  soon  as  the  first  regiment  was  come  up  ; but  they 
did  not  permit  me  to  execute  either ; for  on  the  4th,  about 


APPENDIX. 


28$ 

half  an  hour  before  sunrise,  and  when  the  men  had  been 
just  dismissed  from  the  parade,  (for  it  was  a constant  prac- 
tice to  have  them  all  under  arms  a considerable  time  before 
daylight,)  an  attack  was  made  upon  the  militia,  who  gave 
way  in  a very  little  time,  and  rushed  into  camp  through 
Major  Butler’s  battalion,  which,  together  with  part  of 
Clark’s,  they  threw  into  considerable  disorder,  and  which, 
notwithstanding  the  exertions  of  both  these  officers,  was 
never  altogether  remedied. 

“ The  Indians  followed  close  at  their  heels  ; the  fire,  how 
ever,  of  the  front  line  checked  them ; but  almost  instan- 
taneously a very  heavy  attack  began  upon  that  line,  and  in 
a few  minutes  it  was  extended  to  the  second  likewise. 
The  great  wTeight  of  it  was  directed  against  the  center  of  each, 
wrhere  the  artillery  was  placed,  and  from  wffiich  the  men 
were  repeatedly  driven  with  great  slaughter.  Finding  no 
great  effect  from  the  fire,  and  confusion  beginning  to  spread 
from  the  great  number  of  men  who  were  fallen  in  all  quarters, 
it  became  necessary  to  try  what  could  be  done  with  the 
bayonet. 

“ Lieutenant  Colonel  Darke  was  accordingly  ordered  to 
.make  a charge,  with  a part  of  the  second  line,  and  to  turn 
the  left  flank  of  the  enemy.  This  was  executed  with  great 
■spirit,  and  at  first  promised  much  success.  The  Indians 
instantly  gave  way,  and  were  driven  back  three  or  four 
hundred  yards ; but  for  want  of  a sufficient  number  of  rifle- 
men to  pursue  this  advantage,  they  soon  returned,  and  the 
troops  were  obliged  to  give  back  in  their  turn.  At  this 
moment  they  had  entered  our  camp  by  the  left  flank,  hav- 
ing pursued  back  the  troops  that  were  posted  there. 

“ Another  charge  was  made  here  by  the  second  regiment, 
Butler  and  Clark’s  battalions,  with  equal  effect,  and  it  was 
repeated  several  times,  and  always  with  success  ; but  in  all 
of  them  many  men  were  lost,  and  particularly  the  officers, 
which,  with  some  raw  troops,  was  a loss  altogether  irreme- 
diable. In  that  I just  spcke-of  made  by  the  second  regi- 
ment, and  Butler’s  battalion,  Major  Butler  w as  dangerously 
wounded,  and  every  officer  of  the  second  regiment  fell  ex- 
cept three,  one  of  which,  Captain  Greaton,  was  shot  through 
die  body. 

“ Our  artillery  being  now  silenced,  and  all  the  officers 
killed  except  Captain  Ford,  who  was  badly  wounded,  more 
than  half  of  the  army  fallen,  being  cut  off  from  the  road,  it 


290 


APPENDIX. 


became  necessary  to  attempt  the  regaining  it,  and  to  make  a 
retreat  if  possible.  To  this  purpose  the  remains  of  the  army 
was  formed  as  well  as  circumstances  would  admit,  towards 
the  right  of  the  encampment;  from  which,  by  the  way  of 
the  second  line,  another  charge  was  made  upon  the  enemy, 
as  if  with  the  design  of  turning  their  right  tiank,  but  it  was 
in  fact  to  gain  the  road.  This  was  effected,  and  as  soon  as 
it  was  open  the  militia  entered  it,  followed  by  the  troops, 
Major  Clark  with  his  battalion  covering  the  rear. 

“ The  retreat  in  those  circumstances  was,  you  may  be 
sure,  a precipitate  one.  It  was  in  fact  a flight.  The 
camp  and  the  artillery  were  abandoned ; but  that  was  una 
voidable,  for  not  a horse  wasleft  alive  to  have  drawn  it  off 
had  it  otherwise  been  practicable.  But  the  most  disgrace- 
ful part  of  the  business  is,  that  the  greatest  part  of  the  men 
threw  away  their  arms  and  accouterments,  even  after  the 
pursuit  (which  continued  about  four  miles)  had  ceased. 

“ I found  the  road  strewed  with  them  for  many  miles, 
but  was  not  able  to  remedy  it ; for  having  had  all  my  hor- 
ses killed,  and  being  mounted  upon  one  that  could  not  be 
pricked  out  of  a walk,  I could  not  get  forward  myself;  and 
the  orders  I sent  forward  either  to  halt  the  front  or  prevent 
the  men  from  parting  with  their  arms,  were  unattended  to. 

“ The  rout  continued  quite  to  fort  Jefferson,  twenty-nine 
miles,  which  was  reached  a little  after  sunset.  The  action 
began  about  half  an  hour  before  sunrise,  and  the  retreat 
was  attempted  at  half  past  nine  o’clock. 

“I  have  not  yet  been  able  to  get  the  returns  of  the 
killed  and  wounded ; but  Major  General  Butler,  Lieuten- 
ant Colonel  Oldham,  of  the  militia,  Majors  Ferguson,  Hart, 
and  Clark,  are  among  the  former. 

“ I have  now,  sir,  finished  my  melancholy  tale ; a tale 
that  will  be  felt,  sensibly  felt,  by  every  one  that  has  sym- 
pathy for  private  distress,  or  for  public  misfortune.  I 
have  nothing,  sir,  to  lay  to  the  charge  of  the  troops  but 
their  want  of  discipline,  which,  from  the  short  time  they 
had  been  in  service,  it  was  impossible  they  should  have 
acquired,  and  which  rendered  it  very  difficult,  when  they 
were  thrown  into  confusion,  to  reduce  them  again  to  order, 
and  is  one  reason  why  the  loss  has  fallen  so  heavy  upon 
the  officers,  who  did  every  thing  in  their  power  to  effect  it 
Neither  were  my  own  exertions  wanting;  but 'worn  down 
with  illness,  and  suffering  under  a painful  disease,  unable 


APPENDIX. 


291 


either  to  mount  or  dismount  a horse  without  assistance, 
they  were  not  so  great  as  they  otherwise  would,  or  perhaps 
ought  to  have  been.  * 

“We  were  overpowered  by  numbers;  but  it  is  no  more 
than  justice  to  observe,  that  though  composed  of  so  many 
different  species  of  troops,  the  utmost  harmony  prevailed 
through  the  whole  army  during  the  campaign. 

“ At  Fort  Jefferson  I found  the  first  regiment,  which  had 
returned  from  the  service  they  had  been  sent  upon,  without 
either  overtaking  the  deserters  or  meeting  the  convoy  of 
provisions.  I am  not  certain,  sir,  whether  I ought  to  con- 
sider the  absence  of  this  regiment  from  the  field  of  action 
as  fortunate  ; for  I very  much  doubt,  whether,  had  it  been 
in  the  action,  the  fortune  of  the  day  had  been  turned ; and 
if  it  had  not,  the  triumph  of  the  enemy  would  have  been 
more  complete,  and  the  country  would  have  been  destitute 
of  means  of  defence.- 

“ Taking  a view  of  the  situation  of  our  broken  troops 
at  Fort  Jefferson,  and  that  there  were  no  provisions  in  the 
fort,  I called  on  the  field  officers  for  their  advice  what 
would  be  proper  further  to  be  done ; and  it  was  their  unani- 
mous opinion,  that  the  addition  of  the  first  regiment,  un- 
broken as  it  was,  did  not  put  the  army  on  so  respectable  a 
footing  as  it  was  in  the  morning,  because  a great  part  of  it 
was  now  unarmed ; that  it  had  been  found  unequal  to  the 
enemy,  and  should  they  come  on,  which  was  probable, 
would  be  found  so  again;  that  the  troops  could  not  be 
thrown  into  the  fort,  because  it  was  too  small,  and  there 
was  no  provision  in  it ; that  provisions  were  known  to  be 
upon  the  road  at  the  distance  of  one  or  at  most  two  march- 
es ; that  therefore  it  would  be  proper  to  move  without  loss 
of  time  to  meet  the  provisions,  when  the  men  might  have 
the  sooner  an  opportunity  of  some  refreshment,  and  that  a 
proper  detachment  might  be  sent  back  with  it,  to  have  it 
safely  deposited  in  the  fort. 

“ This  advice  was  accepted,  and  the  army  was  put  in 
motion  at  ten  o’clock,  and  marched  all  night,  and  the  suc- 
ceeding day  met  with  a quantity  of  flour;  part  of  it  was 
distributed  immediately,  part  taken  back  to  supply  the  ar- 
my on  the  march  to  Fort  Hamilton,  and  the  remainder, 
about  fifty  horse  loads,  sent  forward  to  Fort  Jefferson. 

“ I have  said,  sir,  in  the  former  part  of  my  communica- 
tion, that  we  were  overpowered  by  numbers  ; of  that,  how 


APPENDIX. 


ever,  I had  no  other  evidence  but  the  weight  of  the  fire, 
which  was  always  a most  deadly  one,  and  generally  deliv- 
ered from  the  ground,  few  of  the  enemy  showing  them- 
selves on  foot,  except  when  they  were  charged,  and  that 
in  a few  minutes  our  whole  camp,  which  extended  above 
three  hundred  and  fifty  yards  in  length,  was  entirely  sur- 
rounded and  attacked  on  all  quarters. 

“ The  loss,  sir,  the  public  has  sustained  by  the  fall  of  so 
many  officers,  particularly  General  Butler,  and  Major  Fer- 
guson, cannot  be  too  much  regretted ; but  it  is  a circum- 
stance that  will  alleviate  the  misfortune  in  some  measure, 
that  all  of  them  fell  most  gallantly  doing  their  duty.  I 
have  the  honor  to  be,  sir,  your  most  obedient  servant. 

“ ARTHUR  ST.  CLAIR. 

“ Hon.  Secretary  of  War.” 

Upon  a review  of  the  chapter  containing  St.  Clair’s  de- 
feat, the  author  is  aware  that  he  will  probably  be  charged 
with  undue  partiality,  and  perhaps  with  a misstatement  of 
facts,  particularly  as  it  relates  to  the  force  of  the  Indian  ar- 
my Mr.  Marshall,  in  his  life  of  Washington,  reduces 
the  Indian  force  to  an  equality  with  St.  Clair,  and  Mr. 
Mai  shall,  of  Kentucky,  appears  to  be  of  the  same  opinion. 
That  chapter  was  written  before  I had  particularly  referred  to 
these  excellent  authorities,  and  my  own  statement  of  the  In- 
dian force  was  taken  from  a book  entitled  66  Indian  Wars,” 
which  professes  to  have  derived  it  from  the  acknowledgment 
of  the  Indians  themselves.  Upon  reflection,  I am  satisfied 
that  the  gentlemen  above  mentioned  are  correct,  and  only 
regret  that  the  error  into  which  I was  led  by  insufficient 
authority,  cannot  now  be  remedied. 

In  a private  letter  from  Colonel  McKee,  the  Indian 
agent,  to  Colonel  England,  at  Detroit,  the  Indian  force  as- 
sembled at  the  “Fallen  Timber,”  a few  days  before  the 
battle,  is  estimated  at  “one  thousand  men!”  The  letter 
concludes  with  an  earnest  demand  for  reinforcements! 
Ten  days  afterwards,  the  battle  was  fought,  within  which 
period,  it  is  difficult  to  believe,  that  large  reinforcements 
could  arrive  from  the  upper  lakes,  the  only  source  from 
which  they  were  expected.  It  is  absolutely  certain,  that 
the  Indian  force  opposed  to  Wayne  did  not  exceed  fifteen 
hundred  men,  although  their  whole  strength  was  assem- 
'hled.  From  this  data,  it  would  seem  impossible  that  the 


f 


APPENDIX.  203 

force  employed  against  St.  Clair  (more  hastily  collected 
and  at  shorter  warning)  could  have  exceeded  twelve  or 
fifteen  hundred  men.  Mr.  Marshall,  although  evidently 
disposed  to  do  that  unfortunate  gentleman  every  justice,  is, 
nevertheless,  tolerably  severe  in  his  strictures  upon  the  or- 
der of  battle. 

He  particularly  censures  him  for  posting  the  militia  in 
front  in  order  to  receive  the  first  shock,  and  contends  that 
they  should  have  been  formed  in  the  centre  of  the  square, 
in  order  to  reinforce  such  parts  of  the  line  as  gave  way. 
This,  as  the  event  turned  out,  would  probably  have  been 
better  than  the  measure  actually  adopted,  but  St.  Clair,  at 
the  time,  only  conformed  to  the  rule  then  established,  and 
universally  practised.  Militia  were  always  advanced  in 
front  of  regulars,  and  never  incorporated  with  them.  This 
was  uniformly  done  by  Washington,  by  Greene,  (except 
upon  one  occasion,  when  he  placed  them  in  the  rear  as  a 
reserve,  and  when  they  were  wanted,  found  them  too  much 
frightened  to  be  of  any  use,)  and  by  every  general  who 
employed  them.  We  criticise  St.  Clair  by  the  light  of  for- 
ty years  additional  experience  in  Indian  warfare,  which  at 
the  time  of  his  defeat,  was  not  as  well  understood,  at  least 
so  far  as  relates  to  the  employment  of  regulars,  as  now. 

The  close  encampment  of  the  troops  was  certainly  high- 
ly improper,  as  battle  was  expected,  and  for  battle  he 
should  have  been  always  prepared.  For  the  rest,  we  can 
see  no  room  forblarcm.  That  no  general  charge  was  made 
is  true,  for  the  simple  reason,  that  the  troops  being  totally 
raw , could  not  be  brought  to  unite  in  one,  although  every 
possible  exertion  was  made  by  officers,  as  brave  and  intel- 
ligent as  any  in  America.  And,  even  if  one  could  have 
been  made,  there  is  every  reason  to  believe,  that  the  event 
of  the  action  would  have  been  the  same.  The  Indians 
would  have  given  way,  but  their  retreating  fire  was  as  fatal 
as  any  other,  and  had  the  regulars  followed  throughout  the 
day,  they  could  not  have  overtaken  them,  and  without  a 
sufficient  body  of  cavalry,  could  have  made  no  impression 
upon  so  light  footed  and  irregular  an  enemy. 

That  a general  charge  succeeded  under  Wayne  is  true, 
but  how  different  were  the  circumstances  ! Wayne  was  the 
assailant;  St.  Clair  was  attacked  suddenly  and  under  great 
disadvantages.  Wayne  more  than  doubled  his  enemy  i* 
aumbers,  St.  Clair  was  at  best  only  equal  to  his  ; and  what 


294 


APPENDIX. 


made  an  incalculable  difference,  Wayne  was  in  possession 
of  a powerful  body  of  mounted  men,  who  alone  exceeded 
the  whole  body  of  Indians  in  the  field.  Here , advantages 
gained  by  the  bayonet,  could  be  pressed  by  a numerous 
cavalry.  The  Indians  were  aware  of  all  these  circum- 
stances ; they  beheld  the  movement  of  the  mounted  men, 
in  order  to  turn  their  position,  and  finding  themselves  charg- 
ed in  their  coverts,  instantly  fied,  but  whether  from  fear  of 
the  bayonets  of  the  infantry,  or  the  more  rapid  movements 
of  horse,  is  a question  which  might  admit  of  discussion. 
Had  Wayne  encountered  them  with  the  bayonet  alone,  they 
would  (as  in  St.  Clair’s  case)  have  fled,  but  like  the  ancient 
Parthians,  their  flight  would  have  been  as  fatal  as  their  ad- 
vance. I have  not  the  slightest  disposition  to  detract  from 
the  well  merited  fame  of  Wayne.  His  whole  movements 
during  the  campaign,  displayed  a boldness,  vigor,  and  de- 
cision, which  the  miserable  decrepitude  of  St.  Clair  forbade 
him  to  exert;  but  it  cannot  be  denied,  that  he  fought  with 
means  incomparably  beyond  those  of  his  predecessor. 

N.  B.  General  St.  Clair  was  of  opinion  that  his  defeat 
occurred  upon  the  St.  Mary,  and  it  is  so  stated  in  his  of- 
ficial despatch.  It  is  incorrect.  The  action  was  fought 
upon  a small  tributary  stream  of  the  Wabash. 


•INDIAN  MANNERS. 

THE  CHASE. 

The  following  numbers  are  chiefly  collected  from  Lewis 
& Clarke  and  Major  Long’s  Journal : 

“ When  the  trading  and  planting  occupations  of  the  peo- 
ple are  terminated,  and  provisions  begin  to  fail  them,  which 
occurs  generally  in  June,  the  chiefs  assemble  a council  for 
the  purpose  of  deliberating  upon  farther  arrangements  ne- 
cessary to  be  made.  This  assembly  decrees  a feast  to  be 
prepared,  on  a certain  day,  to  which  all  the  distinguished 
men  of  the  nation  are  to  be  invited,  and  one  of  their  num- 
ber is  appointed  to  have  it  prepared  in  his  own  lodge.  On 
ihe  return  of  this  individual  to  his  dwelling,  he  petitions  his 
squaws  to  have  pity  on  him,  and  proceed  to  clean  and  ad- 


APPENDIX. 


295 


just  the  department ; to  spread  the  mats  and  skins  for  seats, 
and  to  collect  wood,  and  bring  water  for  cooking.  He  re- 
quests them  to  provide  three  or  four  large  kettles,  to  pre- 
pare the  maize,  and  to  kill  their  fattest  dog  for  a feast 
The  squaws  generally  murmur  at  this  last  proposition,  be- 
ing reluctant  to  sacrifice  these  animals,  which  are  of  great 
service  to  them  in  carrying  burdens,  like  the  dogs  of  the 
erratic  Tartars;  but  when  they  are  informed  of  the  honor 
that  awaits  them,  of  feasting  all  the  distinguished  men,  they 
undertake  their  duties  with  pride  and  satisfaction. 

“ When  they  have  performed  their  part,  the  squaws  give 
notice  to  the  husband,  who  then  calls  two  or  three  old  pub- 
lic criers  to  his  lodge.  He  invites  them  to  be  seated  near 
’iiim,  and  after  the  ceremony  of  smoking,  he  addresses  them 
in  a low  voice,  directing  them  to  pass  through  the  village, 
stnd  invite  the  individuals,  whom  he  names  to  them.,  to  ho- 
nor him  by  their  presence,  at  the  feast  which  is  now  pre- 
pared. ‘ Speak  in  a low  voice,’  says  he,  * and  tell  them  to 
bring  their  bowls  and  spoons.’  The  criers,  having  thus 
received  their  instructions,  sally  out  together,  and,  in  con- 
cert, sing  aloud  as  they  pass  in  various  directions  through  the 
village.  In  this  song  of  invitation,  the  names  of  ail  the 
elect  are  mentioned.  Having  performed  this  duty,  they 
return  to  the  lodge,  and  are  soon  followed  by  the  chiefs  and 
warriors.  The  host  seats  himself  in  the  back  part  of  the 
lodge,  facing  the  entrance,  where  he  remains  during  the 
ceremony.  If  the  host  is  invested  with  the  dignity  of  chief, 
he  directs  those  who  enter  where  to  seat  themselves,  so 
that  the  chiefs  may  be  arranged  on  one  side,  and  the  war- 
riors on  the  other : if  he  is  a warrior,  he  seats  the  principal 
chiefs  of  the  village  by  his  side,  'who  whisper  in  his  ear  the 
situation  which  those  who  enter  ought  to  occupy  : this  in- 
timation is  repeated  aloud  by  the  host,  when  the  guests  are 
all  arranged,  the  pipe  is  lighted,  and  the  indispensable 
ceremony  of  smoking  succeeds. 

“ The  principal  chief  then  rises,  and  extending  his  ex- 
panded hand  towards  each  in  succession,  gives  thanks  to 
them  individually,  byname,  for  the  honor  of  their  company, 
and  requests  their  patient  attention  to  what  he  is  about  to 
say.  He  then  proceeds,  somewhat  in  the  following  man- 
ner : — 4 Friends  and  relatives,  we  are  assembled  here  for 
the  purpose  of  consulting  respecting  the  proper  course  to 
pursue  in  our  next  hunting  excursion,  or  whether  the 


296 


APPENDIX. 


quantity  of  provisions,  at  present  on  hand,  will  justify  a 
determination  to  remain  here,  to  weed  our  maize.*  If  it  be 
decided  to  depart  immediately,  the  subject  to  be  then  taken 
into  view,  wrill  be  the  direction,  extent,  and  object  of  the 
route. 

“ Having  thus  disclosed  the  business  of  the  council,  he 
is  frequently  succeeded  by  an  old  chief,  who  thanks  him 
for  his  attention  to  their  wants,  and  advises  the  assembly 
to  pay  great  attention  to  what  he  has  said,  as  he  is  a man 
of  truth,  of  knowledge,  and  bravery.  He  further  assures 
them,  that  they  have  ample  cause  to  return  thanks  to  the 
Great  Wahconda,  for  having  sent  such  a man  among  them, 

44  The  assembly  then  takes  the  subject  into  their  con- 
sideration, and  after  much  conversation,  determine  upon  a 
route,  which  the  principal  chief  proposes  in  a speech. 
This  chief,  previous  to  the  council,  is  careful  to  ascertain 
the  opinions  and  wishes  of  his  people,  and  speaks  accord- 
ingly. 

44  He  sometimes,  however,  meets  with  opposition,  from 
persons  who  propose  other  hunting  grounds : but  their  dis- 
courses are  filled  with  compliments  to  his  superior  know- 
ledge and  good  sense.  The  proceedings  of  the  council 
are  uniformly  conducted  with  the  most  perfect  good  order 
and  decorum . 

64 Each  speaker  carefully  abstains  from  militating  against 
the  sensibility  of  any  of  his  hearers : and  uncourteous 
expressions  towards  each  other , on  these  occasions , are 
never  heard . Generally  at  each  pause  of  the  speaker , the 
audience  testify  their  approbation , aloud , by  the  interjec- 
tion heh  : and  as  they  believe  that  he  has  a just  right  to 
his  own  opinions , however  absurd  they  may  appear  to  be , 
and  opposite  to  their  own , the  expression  of  them  excites 
no  reprehension ; and , if  they  cannot  approve , they  do 
not  condemn , unless  urged  by  necessity. 

44  The  day  assigned  for  their  departure  having  arrived,  the 
squaws  load  their  horses  and  dogs,  and  place  as  great  a 
weight  upon  their  own  backs  as  they  can  conveniently 
transport ; and  after  having  closed  the  entrances  to  their 
several  habitations,  by  placing  a considerable  quantity  of 
brushwood  before  them,  the  whole  nation  departs  from  the 
village. 

“ The  men  scatter  about  in  every  direction,  to  reconnoi- 
ter  the  country  for  enemies  and  game  ; but  notwithstanding 


APPENDIX.  297 

the  constant  activity  of  the  hunters,  the  people  often  en- 
dure severe  privation  from  want  of  food,  previously  to  their 
arrival  within  view  of  the  bisons,  an  interval  of  fifteen  or 
twenty  days. 

“ On  coming  in  sight  of  the  herd,  the  hunters  speak  kind- 
ly to  their  horses  ; applying  to  them  the  endearing  name 
of  father,  brother,  uncle,  &c. ; they  petition  them  not  to 
fear  the  buffaloes,  but  to  run  well,  and  keep  close  to  them, 
but  at  the  same  time  to  avoid  being  gored.  The  party 
having  approached  as  near  to  the  herd  as  they  suppose  the 
animals  will  permit,  without  taking  the  alarm,  they  halt, 
to  give  the  pipe  bearer  an  opportunity  of  smoking ; which 
is  considered  necessary  to  their  success.  He  lights  his 
pipe,  and  remains  a short  time  with  his  head  inclined,  and 
the  stem  of  the  pipe  extended  towards  the  herd.  He  then 
smokes,  and  puffs  the  smoke  towards  the  buffaloes,  towards 
the  heavens  and  the  earth,  and  finally  to  the  cardinal  points 
successively.  These  last  they  distinguish  by  the  terms, 
sunrise,  sunset,  cold  country  and  warm  country ; or  they 
designate  them  collectively  by  the  phrase  of  the  four  winds. 

“ The  ceremony  of  smoking  being  performed,  the  word 
for  starting  is  given  by  the  principal  chief.  They  imme- 
diately separate  into  two  bands,  who  pass  in  full  speed  to 
the  right  and  left,  and  perform  a considerable  circuit,  with 
the  object  of  enclosing  the  herd,  at  a considerable  interval 
between  them.  They  then  close  in  upon  the  animals,  and 
each  man  endeavors  to  kill  as  many  of  them  as  his  oppor- 
tunity permits. 

“ It  is  upon  this  occasion,  that  the  Indians  display  their 
horsemanship,  and  dexterity  in  archery.  Whilst  in  full 
run,  they  discharge  the  arrow  with  an  aim  of  much  certain- 
ty, so  that  it  penetrates  the  body  of  the  animal  behind  the 
shoulder.  If  it  should  not  bury  itself  so  deeply  as  they 
wish,  they  are  often  known  to  ride  up  to  the  enraged  ani- 
mal and  withdraw  it.  They  observe  the  direction  and 
depth  to  which  the  arrow  enters,  in  order  to  ascertain 
whether  or  not  the  wound  is  mortal,  of  which  they  can 
judge  with  a considerable  degree  of  exactness;  when  a 
death  wound  is  inflicted  the  hunter  raises  a shout  of  exul- 
tation, to  prevent  others  from  pursuing  the  individual  of 
which  he  considers  himself  certain.  He  then  passes  on  in 
pursuit  of  another,  and  so  on  until  his  quiver  is  exhausted, 
or  the  game  has  fled  beyond  his  farther  pursuit. 


598 


APPENDIX. 


“ The  force  of  the  arrow,  when  discharged  by  a dexter 
ous  and  athletic  Indian,  is  very  great,  and  we  were  even 
credibly  informed,  that  under  favorable  circumstances,  it 
has  been  known  to  pass  entirely  through  the  body  of  a 
buffalo,  and  actually  to  fly  some  distance,  or  fall  to  the 
ground,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  animal. 

“ Notwithstanding  the  apparent  confusion  of  this  engage- 
ment, and  that  the  same  animal  is  sometimes  feathered  by 
arrows  from  different  archers  before  he  is  despatched,  or 
considered  mortally  wounded,  yet,  as  each  man  knows  his 
own  arrows  from  all  others,  and  can  also  estimate  the  na- 
ture of  the  wound,  whether  it  would  produce  a speedy 
death  to  the  animal,  quarrels  respecting  the  right  of  pro- 
perty in  the  prey  seldom  occur,  and  it  is  consigned  to  the 
more  fortunate  individual,  whose  weapon  penetrated  the 
most  vital  part.  The  chase  having  terminated,  each  Indi- 
an can  trace  back  his  devious  route  to  the  starting  place, 
so  as  to  recover  any  small  article  he  may  have  lost. 

“ A fleet  horse,  well  trained  to  hunt,  runs  at  the  propei 
distance,  with  the  reins  thrown  upon  his  neck,  parallel 
with  the  buffalo,  turns  as  he  turns,  and  does  not  cease  to 
exert  his  speed  until  the  shoulder  o!  the  animal  is  present- 
ed, and  the  fatal  arrow  is  implanted  there.  He  then  com- 
plies with  the  motion  of  his  rider,  who  leans  to  one  side 
in  order  to  direct  his  course  to  another  buffalo.  Such 
horses  as  these  are  reserved  by  their  owners  exclusively 
for  the  chase,  and  are  but  rarely  subjected  to  the  drudgery 
of  carrying  burdens. 

“ When  the  herd  has  escaped,  and  those  that  are  only 
wounded,  or  disabled,  are  secured,  the  hunters  proceed  to 
flay  and  cut  up  the  slain.  Every  eatable  part  of  the  ani- 
mal is  carried  to  the  camp,  and  preserved,  excepting  the 
feet  and  the  head ; but  the  brains  are  taken  from  the  skull, - 
fqr  the  purpose  of  'dressing  the  skin,  or  converting  it  into 
Indian  leather.” 

In  descending  the  Ontonagon  river,  which  falls  into  Lake 
Superior,  Mr.  Schoolcraft  says  : 46  Our  Indian  guides  stop- 
ped on  the  east  side  of  the  river  to  examine  a bear-fall  that 
had  been  previously  set,  and  were  overjoyed  to  find  a large 
bear  entrapped.  As  it  was  no  great  distance  from  the  river, 
we  all  landed  to  enjoy  the  sight.  The  animal  sat  up  on 
fiis  fore  paws,  facing  us,  the  hinder  paws  being  pressed  to 
the  ground  by  a heavy  weight  of  logs,  which  had  been  ar* 


APPENDIX. 


299 


ranged  in  such  a manner  as  to  allow  the  bear  to  creep 
under,  and  when,  by  seizing  the  bait,  he  had  sprung  the 
trap,  he  could  not  extricate  himself,  although  with  his  fore- 
paws he  had  demolished  a part  of  the  works.  After  view- 
ing him  for  some  time,  a ball  was  fired  through  his  head, 
but  did  not  kill  him.  The  bear  kept  his  position,  and 
seemed  to  growl  in  defiance.  A second  ball  was  aimed  at 
the  heart,  and  took  effect ; but  he  did  not  resign  the  con- 
test immediately,  and  was  at  last  despatched  with  an  axe. 
As  soon  as  the  bear  fell,  one  of  the  Indians  walked  up,  and 
addressing  him  by  the  name  of  Muckwah,  shook  him  by 
the  paw  with  a smiling  countenance,  saying  in  the  Indian 
language,  he  was  sorry  he  had  been  under  the  necessity 
of  killing  him,  and  hoped  the  offence  would  be  forgiven, 
particularly  as  Long-Knife*  had  fired  one  of  the  balls. ”t 


THEIR  DANCES. 

All  their  dances  are  distinguished  by  appropriate  names, 
such  as  the  war  dance,  the  scalp  dance,  the  buffalo  dance, 
the  beggar’s  dance,  Ac.  In  Major  Long’s  Journal,  the  beg- 
gar’s dance  is  thus  described  : “ About  one  hundred  Qttoes, 
together  with  a deputation  of  the  loway  nation,  who  had 
been  summoned  by  Major  O’Fallon,  (Indian  agent  for  the 
government  of  the  United  States,)  presented  themselves  at 
our  camp.  The  principal  chiefs  advanced  before  their  peo- 
ple, and,  upon  invitation  seated  themselves.  After  a short 
interval  of  silence,  Shonga-Tonga,  the  Big  Horse,  a large, 
portly  Indian,  of  a commanding  presence,  arose,  and  said  : 
4 My  father,  your  children  have  come  to  dance  before  your 
tent,  agreeably  to  our  custom  of  honoring  brave  or  distin- 
guished persons.’ 

“After  a suitable  reply  from  Major  O’Fallon,  the  amuse- 
ment of  dancing  was  commenced,  by  the  striking  up  of 
their  rude  instrumental  and  vocal  music,  the  former  consist- 
ing of  a gong  made  of  a large  keg,  over  one  end  of  which 
a skin  was  stretched,  which  was  struck  by  a small  stick  ; 
and  another  instrument  consisting  of  a stick  of  firm  wood, 
notched  like  a saw,  over  the  teeth  of  whicTi  a smaller  stick 
was  rubbed  forcibly  backward  and  forward.  With  these, 
rude  as  they  were,  very  good  time  was  preserved  with  the 


* Ac  American. 


f Schoolcraft ’a  Journal,  p<  1S2. 


APPENDIX. 


300 

vocal  performers,  who  sat  around  them  ; and  by  all  the  Da- 
tives as  they  sat,  in  the  inflection  of  their  bodies,  or  the 
movements  of  their  limbs.  After  the  lapse  of  a little  time,, 
three  individuals  leaped  up,  and  danced  around  for  a few 
minutes  ; then,  at  a concerted  signal  from  the  master  of 
ceremonies,  the  music  ceased  and  they  retired  to  their  seats, 
uttering  a loud  noise,  which  by  patting  the  mouth  rapidly 
with  the  hand,  was  broken  into  a succession  of  similar 
sounds,  somewhat  like  the  hurried  barking  of  a dog.  Several 
sets  of  dancers  succeeded,  each  terminating  as  the  first. 

“ In  the  intervals  of  the  dances,  a warrior  would  step  for- 
ward and  strike  a flag  staff  they  had  erected,  with  a stick, 
whip,  or  other  weapon,  and  recount  his  martial  deeds 
This  ceremony  is  called  “ striking  the  post,”*  and  what- 
ever is  then  said  may  be  relied  on  as  truth,  being  delivered 
in  the  presence  of  many  a jealous  warrior  and  witness, 
who  could  easily  detect,  and  would  immediately  disgrace 
the  striker,  for  exaggeration  and  falsehood.  This  is  called 
the  beggar’s  dance,  during  which  some  presents  are  always 
expected  by  the  performers ; as  tobacco,  whiskey,  or  trin- 
kets. But,  on  this  occasion,  as  none  of  these  articles  were 
immediately  offered,  the  amusement  was  not,  at  first,  dis- 
tinguished by  much  activity.  The  master  of  ceremonies 
continually  called  aloud  to  them,  to  exert  themselves-;  but 
still  they  were  somewhat  dull  and  backward.  Ietan  (the 
master  of  ceremonies,)  now  stepped  forward,  and  lashed  a 
post  with  his  whip,  declaring,  that  he  would  thus  punish 
those  who  would  not  dance. 

“ This  threat  from  one  whom  they  had  vested  with  au- 
thority for  this  occasion,  had  a manifest  effect  upon  his 
auditors,  who  were  presently  highly  wrought  up,  by  the 
sight  of  two  or  three  little  mounds  of  tobacco  twists,  which 
were  now  laid  before  them,  and  appeared  to  infuse  new 
life.  After  lashing  the  post,  and  making  his  threat,  Ietan 
went  on  to  relate  his  martial  exploits.  He  had  stolen 
horses,  seven  or  eight  times,  from  the  Konzas ; he  had 
first  struck  the  bodies  of  three  of  that  nation,  slain  in  bat- 
tle. He  had  stolen  horses  from  the  Ietan  nation,  and  had 
struck  one  of  their  dead.  He  had  stolen  horses  from  the 
Pawnees,  and  struck  the  body  of  one  Pawnee  Loup.  He 
had  stolen  horses  several  times  from  the  Omawhaws,  and 


Of  this  an  explanation  will  hereafter  be  given. 


APPENDIX, 


301 

once  from  the  Pimcas.  He  had  struck  the  bodies  of  two 
Sioux.  On  a war  party,  in  company  with  the  Pawnees, 
he  had  attacked  the  Spaniards,  and  penetrated  into  one  of 
their  camps.  The  Spaniards,  except  a man  and  a boy,  fled. 
He  was  at  a distance  before  his  party,  and  was  shot  at,  and 
missed,  by  the  man,  whom  he  immediately  shot  down  and 
struck.  ‘ This,  my  father,’  said  he,  ‘ is  the  only  martial 
art  of  my  life  that  I am  ashamed  of.’ 

“ After  several  rounds  of  dancing,  and  of  striking  at  th 
post,  the  Miaketa,  or  the  little  soldier,  a war  worn  veteran, 
took  his  turn  to  strike  the  post.  He  leaped  actively 
about,  and  strained  his  voice  to  the  utmost  pitch,  while  he 
portrayed  some  of  the  scenes  of  blood  in  which  he  had 
acted.  He  had  struck  dead  bodies  of  all  the  red  nations 
around,  Osages,  Konzas,  Pawnee  Loups,  Pawnee  Repub- 
licans, Grand  Pawnees,  Puncas,  Omawhaws,  Sioux,  Pa- 
ducas,  La  Plais,  or  Baldheads,  Ietans,  Sacs,  Foxes,  and 
Ioways.  He  had  struck  eight  of  one  nation,  seven  of 
another,  &c.  He  was  proceeding  with  his  account,  when 
letan  ran  up  to  him,  put  his  hand  upon  his  mouth,  and  res- 
pectfully led  him  to  his  seat.  This  act  was  no  trifling 
compliment,  paid  to  the  well  known  brave.  It  indicated, 
that  he  had  still  so  many  glorious  acts  to  speak  of,  that  he 
would  occupy  so  much  time  as  to  prevent  others  from 
speaking,  and  put  to  shame  the  other  warriors,  by  the  con- 
trast of  his  actions  with  theirs. 

“ Their  physical  action  is  principally  confined  to  leap- 
ing a small  distance  from  the  ground,  with  both  feet,  the 
body  being  slightly  inclined ; and  upon  alighting,  an  addi- 
tional slight,  but  sudden  inclination  of  the  body  is  made  so 
as  to  appear  like  a succession  of  jerks ; or  the  feet  are 
raised  alternately,  the  motions  of  the  body  being  the  same. 
Such  are  their  movements,  in  which  the  whole  party  cor- 
responds ; but  in  the  figures  as  they  are  termed,  in  our  as- 
sembly rooms,  each  individual  performs  a separate  part, 
and  each  part  is  a significant  pantomimic  narrative.  In  all 
their  variety  of  action,  they  are  careful  to  observe  the  mu- 
sical cadences.  In  this  dance,  letan  represents  one  who 
was  in  the  act  of  stealing  horses.  He  carried  a whip  in 
his  hand,  as  did  a considerable  number  of  the  Indians,  and 
around  his  neck  were  thrown  several  leather  thongs,  for 
bridles,  and  halters,  the  ends  of  which  trailed  on  the  ground 
behind  him. 


302 


APPENDIX. 


“ After  many  preparatory  man oeu vers,  he  stooped  down,, 
and  with  his  knife,  represented  the  act  of  cutting  the  hop- 
ples of  horses  ; he  then  rode  his  tomahawk,  as  children 
ride  their  broomsticks,  making  such  use  of  his  whip,  as  to 
indicate  the  necessity  of  rapid  movement,  lest  his  foes 
should  overtake  him.  Wa-sa-ba-jing-ga,  or  Little  Black 
Bear,  after  a variety  of  gestures,  threw  several  arrows,  in 
succession,  over  his  head,  thereby  indicating  his  familiarity 
with  the  flight  of  such  missiles;  he,  at  the  same  time,  coy?* 
ered  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  to  indicate  that  he  was  blind 
to  danger.  Others  represented  their  manoeuvres  in  battle, 
seeking  their  enemy,  discharging  at  him  their  guns  and  ar- 
rows, <fcc.  &c.  Most  of  the  dancers  were  the  principal 
warriors  of  the  nation,  men  Yvho  had  not  condescended  to 
amuse  themselves,  or  others  in  this  manner,  for  years  be- 
fore ; but  they  now  appeared  in  honor  of  the  occasion,  and 
to  conciliate,  in  their  best  manner,  the  good  will  of  the 
representative  of  the  government  of  the  Big  Knives.* 

4 4 Among  these  veteran  Yvarriors,  Ietan,  or  Shamonekus* 
see,  Hashea,  the  Broken  Arm,  commonly  called  Cutnose, 
and  Wa-sa-ba-jing-ga,  or  Little  Black  Bear,  three  youthful 
leaders,  in  particular  attracted  our  attention.  In  conse- 
quence of  having  been  appointed  soldiers  on  this  occasion 
to  preserve  order,  they  were  painted  entirely  black.  The 
countenance  of  the  former  indicated  much  wit,  and  had,  in 
its  expression,  something  of  the  character  of  that  of  Vol- 
taire. He.  frequently  excited  the  mirth  of  those  about  him 
by  his  remarks  and  gestures.  Hashea,  called  Cutnose,  in 
consequence  of  having  lost  the  tip  of  his  nose  in  a quarrel 
with  Ietan,  wore  a handsome  robe  of  white  wolf  skin,  with 
an  appendage  behind  him  called  a crow.  This  singular 
decoration  is  a large  cushion,  made  of  the  skin  of  a crow, 
stuffed  with  any  light  material,  and  variously  ornamented. 
It  has  two  decorated  sticks  projecting  from  it  upward,  and 
a pendant  one  beneath.  This  apparatus  is  secured  upon 
the  buttocks  by  a girdle  passing  round  the  body.. 

44  The  other  actors  in  the  scene  were  decorated  with  paints, 
of  several  colors,  fantastically  disposed  upon  their  persons. 
Several  Yvere  painted  with  white  clay,  which  had  the  ap- 
pearance of  being  grooved  in  many  places.  This  grooved 


* The  appellation  by  which  the  Indians  distinguish  the  whites  of  thft 
IMed  States. 


APPENDIX 


303 


appearance  is  given,  by  drawing  the  finger  nails  over  the 
part,  so  as  to  remove  the  pigment  from  thence,  in  parallel 
lines.  These  lines  are  either  rectilinear,  undulated,  or 
zigzag:  sometimes  passing  over  the  forehead  transversely, 
or  vertically ; sometimes  in  the  same  directions,  or  ob- 
liquely over  the  whole  visage,  or  upon  the  breast,  arms, 
&c.  Many  were  painted  with  red  clay,  in  which  the  same 
lines  appeared.  A number  of  them  had  the  representation 
of  a black  hand,  with  outspread  fingers,  on  different  parts 
of  the  body,,  strongly  contrasted  with  the  principal  color 
with  which  the  body  was  overspread  ; the  hand  was  de- 
picted in  different  positions  upon  the  face,  breast  and  back. 
The  faces  of  others  were  colored  one  half  black,  and  the 
other  white,  &c. 

“ Many  colored  their  hair  with  red  clay ; but  the  eyelids 
and  base  of  the  ears,  were  generally  tinged  with  vermilion. 
At  the  conclusion  of  the  ceremony,  whisky,  which  they 
always  expect  on  similar  occasions,  was  produced,  and  a 
small  portion  given  to  each.  The  principal  chiefs  of  the  dif- 
ferent nations,  who  had  remained  passive  spectators  of  the 
scene,  now  directed  their  people  to  return  to  their  camp. 
The  word  of  the  chiefs  was  obeyed,  except  by  a few  of 
the  Ioways,  who  appeared  to  be  determined  to  keep  their 
places,  notwithstanding  the  reiterated  command  of  the 
chiefs.  Ietan  now  sprang  towards  them,  with  an  expres- 
sion of  much  ferocity  in  his  countenance,  and  it  is  proba- 
ble, a tragic  scene  would  have  been  displayed,  had  not  the 
chiefs  requested  him  to  use  gentle  means,  and  thus  he  suc- 
ceeded, after  which  the  chiefs  withdrew.’’* 

EMBASSIES*. 

Charlevoix  says,  “ in  their  treaties  for  peace,  and  gener- 
ally, in  all  their  negotiations,,  they  discover  a dexterity, 
and  a nobleness  of  sentiment,  which  would  do  honor  to 
the  most  polished  nations*”!  A specimen  of  the  mode  of 
negotiating  peace  among  tha  Missouri  Indians,  which  I 
shall  extract  from  Major  Long’s  Journal,  will,  in  a consid- 
erable degree,  sustain  the  foregoing  remark  of  Charlevoix: 
it  will  also  convey  an*  idea  of  the  formalities  observed  o* 
that  occasion,  with  greater  accuracy,  than  any  general  ob- 
servations. 


• VoL  l,pagc  153. 


f Charlevefo.  p,  1 


304 


APPENDIX. 


“ During  the  stay  of  our  detached  party  afc  the  Konz» 
village,  several  chief  me»  of  the  nation  requested  Mr. 
Dougherty  to  lead  a deputation  from  them,  to  their  enemies 
the  Ottoes,  Missouris,  and  loways,  then  dwelling  in  one 
village  on  the  Platte.  Circumstances  then  prevented  the 
gratification  of  their  wishes,  but  he  gave  them  to  under- 
stand, that  if  the  deputation  should  meet  our  party  near 
Council  Bluff,  he  would  probably  then  be  authorized  to 
ear  them  company  : on  which  they  determined  to  send  a 
arty  thither.  Accordingly,  on  the  day  preceding  the  arrw 
val  of  our  steam-boat  at  the  position  chosen  for  our  winter 
cantonment,  a deputation  from  the  Konzas  arrived  for  that 
purpose.  It  consisted  of  six  men,  led  by  Herochche,  or 
he  Red  War  Eagle,  one  of  the  principal  warriors  of  the 
Konza  nation. 

“ Mr.  Dougherty  having  made  their  pacific  mission  to 
Major  O’Fallon,  the  latter  expressed  to*  them  his  cordial 
approbation  of  their  intentions,  and  the  following  day  he 
despatched  Mr.  Dougherty  with  them,  to  protect  them  by 
his  presence,  on  their  approach  to  the  enemy,  and  to  as- 
sist them  by  his  mediation,  in  their  negotiations,  should  it 
be  found  necessary. 

“The  distance  of  the  Oto  village  is  about  twenty-five 
miles ; on  the  journey  over  the  prairies,  they  espied  an 
object  at  a distance,  which  was  mistaken  for  a man  standing 
upon  an  eminence.  The  Indians  immediately  halted,  when 
Herochche  addressed  them  with  the  assurance  that  they 
must  put  their  trust  in  the  Master  of  Life,  and  in  their  lea- 
ders ; and  observed  that,  having  journeyed  thus  far  on  their 
business,  they  n^ust  not  return  until  their  purpose  was  ao- 
complished ; that  if  it  was  their  lot  to  die,  no  event  could 
save  them  ; ‘ we  have  set  out,  my  braves,’  said  he,  ‘ to  eat 
of  the  Otoes  victuals,  and  we  must  do  so  or  die  the  party 
then  proceeded  onward.  The  Indians  are  always  very 
cautious  when  approaching  an  enemy’s  village,  on  any  oc- 
casion, and  this  party  well  knew  that  their  enterprise  was 
full  of  danger. 

“ In  a short  time  they  were  again  brought  to  a halt,  by  the 
appearance  of  a considerable  number  of  men  and  horses, 
that  were  advancing  towards  them.  After  some  consulta- 
tion and  reconnoitering,  they  sat  down  upon  the  ground, 
lighting  the  peace  pipe,  or  calumet,  Herochche  directed 
of  it  towards  the  object  of  their  suspicion,  saying. 


JLPPENi XX. 


305 

4 smoke  friend,  or  foe/  he  then  directed  it  towards  the  Oto 
village,  towards  the  white  people,  towards  heaven,  and  the 
earth  successively.” 

The  strangers,  however,  proved  to  be  drovers,  with  cat- 
tle for  the  troops,  on  their  way  to  Council  Bluff. 

“ In  consequence  of  being  thus  detained,  it  was  late  in 
the  afternoon  when  Jthe  party  arrived  at  the  Platte  river, 
and  as  they  had  still  .eighteen  miles  to  travel,  and  it  was 
indispensable  to  tfheir  .safety  that  they  should  reach  the  vil- 
lage before  .dark,  Mx.  Dougherty  urged  his  horse  rapidly 
forwards..  The  Indians,  who  were  all  on  foot,  ran  the 
whole  distance,  halting  but  twice,  in  order  to  cross  the  Elk 
Horn  and  Platte  rivers,  although  one  of  them  was  upwards 
of  sixty  years  of  age*  and  three  of  the  others  were  much 
advanced  in  years. 

“ As  they  drew  near  the  Oto  village,  they  were  discov- 
ered by  some  boys  who  were  collecting  their  horses  to- 
gether for  the  night,  and  who,  in  a telegraphic  manner, 
communicated  intelligence  of  their  .approach,  to  the  people 
of  the  village,  by  throwing  their  robes  into  the  air,. 

“ The  party  was  soon  surrounded  by  the  inhabitants, 
who  rushed  towards  them,  riding,  and  running  with  the 
greatest  impetuosity.  The  greatest  confusion  reigned  for 
some  time,  the  Otoes  shouting,  hallooing,  and  screaming, 
whilst  their  Konza  visitors  lamented  aloud.  Shamonekus- 
see  soon  arrived,  and  restored  a degree  of  order,  when  the 
business  of  the  mission  being  made  known  in  a few  words, 
the  Konzas  were  taken  up,  behind  some  of  the  horsemen, 
and  conveyed  as  rapidly  as  possible,  to  the  lodge  of  Shon- 
gotongo,  lest  personal  violence  should  be  offered  them  on 
the  way.  They  did  not,  however,  escape  the  audible  male- 
dictions of  the  squaws,  as  they  passed,  but  were  stigma- 
tized as  wrinkled-faced  old  men  with  hairy  chins,  and  ugly 
faces,  and  flat  noses. 

“ After  running  this  species  of  gauntlet,  they  were  qui- 
etly seated  in  the  lodge,  where  they  were  sure  of  protection. 
A squaw,  however,  whose* husband  had  been  recently  killed 
by  the  Konzas,  rushed  into  the  lodge,  with  the  intention 
of  seeking  vengeance  by  killing  one  of  the  ambassadors  on 
the  spot.  She  stood  suddenly  before  Herochche,  and 
seemed  a very  demon  of  fury.  She  caught  his  eye,  and  at 
the  instant,  with  all  her  strength,  she  aimed  a blo^yr  at  his 
breast  with  a large  knife,  which  was  firmly  grasped  in  her 


306 


APPENDIX. 


right  hand,  and  which  she  seemed  confident  of  sheathing 
in  his  heart.  At  that  truly  hopeless  moment,  the  counte- 
nance of  the  warrior  remained  unchanged,  and  even  exhib- 
ited no  emotion  whatever ; and  when  the  knife  approached 
its  destination  with  the  swiftness  of  lightning,  his  eye  stood 
firm,  nor  were  its  lids  seen  to  quiver ; so  far  from  recoil- 
ing, or  raising  his  arm  to  avert  the  blow,  that  he  even  rather 
protruded  his  breast  to  meet  that  death  which  seemed  inevi- 
table. and  which  was  only  averted  by  the  sudden  interpo- 
sition of  the  arm  of  one  of  her  nation,  that  received  the 
weapon  to  the  very  bone. 

44  Thus  foiled  in  her  attempt,  the  squaw  was  gently  led 
out  of  the  lodge,  and  no  one  offered  her  violence,  or  even 
harsh  reproof.  No  further  notice  was  taken  of  this  trans- 
action by  either  party.  Food  was  then,  as  usual,  placed 
before  the  strangers,  and  soon  after  a warrior  entered  with 
a pipe,  which  he  held  whilst  Herochche  smoked,  saying  in 
a loud  voice,  4 you  tell  us  you  wish  for  peace ; I say  I will 
give  you  a horse  ; let  us  see  which  of  us  will  be  the  liar, 
you  or  I.’  The  horse  was  presented  to  him. 

44  The  evening,  and  much  of  the  night,  were  passed  in 
friendly  conversation  respecting  the  events  of  the  five 
years’  war  which  they  had  waged  with  each  other.  On 
the  following  morning,  the  Konzas  were  called  to  partake 
of  the  hospitality  of  different  lodges,  whilst  the  principal 
men  of  the  village  were  assembled  in  council,  to  deliberate 
upon  the  subject  of  concluding  a peace. 

4 4 At  noon,  the  joint  and  grand  council  was  held  in  Cre- 
nier’s  lodge.  The  Otoes,  Missouris,  and  Ioways  took  their 
seats  around  the  apartment,  with  the  Konzas  in  the  centre. 
Herochche,  whose  business  it  was  first  to  speak,  holding 
the  bowl  of  the  calumet  in  his  hand,  remained  immoveable 
for  the  space  of  three-fourths  of  an  hour,  when  he  arose, 
pointed  the  stem  of  the  calumet  towards  each  of  the  three 
nations  successively,  then  towards  heaven,  and  the  earth, 
after  which  he  stretched  out  his  arm,  with  the  palm 
of  the  hand  towards  each  of  the  members  in  succession, 
he  then  proceeded  to  shake  each  individual  by  the  hand, 
after  which  he  returned  to  his  place,  and  renewed  the  mo- 
tion of  the  hand  as  before. 

44  Having  performed  all  these  introductory  formalities,  he 
stood  firm  anil  erect,  though  perfectly  easy  and  unconstrain- 
ed, and  with  a bold  expression  of  countenance,  loud  voice,  and 


APPENDIX. 


307 

cmphatical  gesticulation,  he  thus  addressed  the  council 

“‘Fathers,  brothers,  chiefs,  warriors,  and  brave  men— 
You  are  all  great  men:  I am  a poor,  obscure  individual. 
It  has,  however,  become  my  duty  to  inform  you,  that  the 
chiefs  and  warriors  of  my  nation,  some  time  ago,  held  a 
council  for  the  purpose  of  concerting  measures  to  terminate 
amicably  the  cruel  and  unwelcome  war  that  has  so  long 
existed  between  us,  and  chosen  me,  all  -insignificant  as  I 
am,  to  bring  you  this  pipe  which  I hold  in  my  hand.  I 
have  visited  your  village,  that  we  might  all  smoke  from  the 
same  pipe,  and  eat  from  the  same  bowl,  with  the  same 
spoon,  in  token  of  our  future  union  in  friendship. 

“ ‘On  approaching  your  village,  my  friends  and  relatives, 
I thought  I had  not  long  to  live.  I expected  that  you  would 
kill  me  and  these  poor  men  who  have  followed  me.  But 
1 received  encouragement  from  the  reflection,  that  if  it 
should  be  my  lot  to  die  to-day,  I would  not  have  to  die  to- 
morrow, and  I relied  firmly  upon  the  Master  of  Life. 

“ ‘Nor  was  this  anticipation  of  death  unwarranted  by 
precedent : you  may  recollect,  that  five  winters  ago,  six 
tvarriors  of  my  nation  came  to  you,  as  I have  now  done, 
and  that  you  killed  them  all  but  one,  who  had  the  good 
1 ortune  to  escape.  This  circumstance  was  vivid  in  my 
nemory  when  I yesterday  viewed  your  village  in  the  dis- 
tance ; said  I,  those  warriors  who  preceded  me  in  the  at- 
tempt to  accomplish  this  desirable  object,  although  they 
were  greater  and  more  brave  than  I,  yet  they  were  killed 
by  those  whom  they  came  to  conciliate,  and  why  shall  I 
not  share  their  fate?  If  so,  my  bones- will  bleach  near 
theirs.  If,  on  the  contrary,  I should  escape  death,  I will 
visit  the  bones  of  my  friends.  The  oldest  of  my  followers 
here,  was  father-in-law  to  the  chief  of  those  slaughtered 
messengers ; he  is  poor  and  infirm,  and  has  followed  us 
with  difficulty ; his  relatives  also  are  poor,  and  have  been 
long  lamenting  the  loss  of  the  chief  you  killed.  I hope 
you  will  have  pity  on  him,  and  give  him  moccasons  (mean- 
ing a horse)  to  return  home  with,  for  he  cannot  walk.  Two 
or  three  others  of  my  companions  are  also  in  want  of  moc- 
casons for  their  journey  homeward. 

“ ‘My  friends,  we  wish  for  peace,  and  we  are  tired  of  war. 
There  is  a large  tract  of  country  intervening  between  us, 
from  which,  as  it  is  so  constantly  traversed  by  our  respec- 
tive hostile  parties,  we  cannot  either  of  us  kill  the  game  in 


308 


APPENDIX. 


security,  to  furnish  our  traders  with  peltries.  I wish  to  see 
a large  level  road  over  that  country,  connecting  our  villages 
together,  near  which  no  one  can  conceal  himself  in  order 
to  kill  passengers,  and  that  our  squaws  may  be  enabled  to 
visit  from  village  to  village  in  safety,  and  not  be  urged  by 
fear  to  cast  off  their  packs  and  betake  themselves  to  the 
thickets,  when  they  see  any  person  on  the  route.  Our  na- 
tions have  made  peace  frequently,  but  a peace  has  not  been 
of  long  duration.  I hope,  however,  that  which  we  shall  now 
establish,  will  continue  one  day,  two  days,  three  days,  four 
days,  five  days.  My  friends  ! what  I have  told  you  is  true  ; 
I was  not  sent  here  to  tell  you  lies.  That  is  all  I have  to 
say.’ 

“ Herochche  then  lit  his  pipe,  and  presented  the  stem  to 
the  brother  of  the  Crenier,  Wasacaruja,  or  he  who  eats  raw, 
who  had  formerly  been  his  intimate  friend.  The  latter 
held  the  end  of  the  stem  in  his  hand,  whilst  he  looked  He- 
rochche full  in  the  face  for  a considerable  space  of  time. 
At  length,  he  most  emphatically  asked,  6 is  all  true 
that  you  have  spoken?’  The  other,  striking  himself  re- 
peatedly and  forcibly  upon  the  breast,  answered  with  a loud 
voice,  • Yes,  it  is  all  truth  that  I have  spoken.’  Wasaca- 
ruja,  without  any  further  hesitation,  accepted  the  proffered 
pipe,  and  smoked,  whilst  Herochche  courteously  held  the 
bowl  of  it  in  his  hand ; the  latter  warrior  then  held  it  in 
succession  to  each  member  of  council,  who  respectively 
took  a whiff  or  two,  after  which  the  pipe  itself  was  pre- 
sented to  Wasacaruja,  to  retain. 

“ It  is  impossible  to  convey  an  adequate  idea  of  the  en- 
ergy and  propriety  with  which  this  speech  was  delivered, 
or  of  the  dignity  and  self-possession  of  the  speaker.  Be- 
fore he  commenced,  he  hesitated,  and  looked  around  upon 
his  enemies,  probably  in  order  to  trace  in  the  lineaments  of 
their  countenances,  the  expressions  of  their  feelings  towards 
him.  He  then  began  his  address,  by  raising  his  voice  at 
once  to  its  full  intonation,  producing  a truly  powerful  effect 
upon  the  ear,  by  a contrast  with  the  deep  and  long  continu- 
ed silence  which  preceded  it.  He  was  at  no  loss  for  subject 
or  for  words,  but  proceeded  right  onwards  to  the  close  of 
his  speech,  like  a full-flowing  impetuous  stream. 

“ Wasacaruja,  in  consequence  of  having  first  accepted  of 
the  calumet,  was  now  regarded  as  responsible  for  the  sin- 
cerity of  his  friend  Herochche.  He  therefore  arose*  aa<3 


APPENDIX. 


309 

thus  addressed  the  ambassador : — * My  friend  ! I am  glad 
to  see  you  on  such  an  occasion  as  the  present,  and  to  hear 
that  your  voice  is  for  peace.  A few  winters  ago,  when  we 
were  in  friendship  with  each  other,  I visited  your  village, 
and  you  gave  me  all  your  people,  saying  that  all  the  Kon- 
2as  were  mine.  But  it  was  not  long  afterwards,  as  we 
hunted  near  your  country,  that  you  stole  our  horses,  and 
killed  some  of  our  people,  and  I cannot  but  believe  that  the 
same  course  will  be  again  pursued.  Nevertheless,  I shall 
again  repair  to  the  same  place  of  which  I have  spoken,  this 
autumn,  for  the  purpose  of  hunting,  and  in  the  spring  I will 
again  visit  your  town.  You  observed  that  you  were  appre- 
hensive of  being  killed  as  you  approached  our  village,  and 
you  most  probably  would  have  been  so,  coming  as  you  did, 
late  in  the  evening,  and  without  the  usual  formality  of  send- 
ing, a messenger  to  apprize  us  of  your  approach,  had  you 
not  been  accompanied  by  the  Big  Knife,  with  whom  you 
are  so  well  acquainted.  But  we  have  now  smoked  to- 
gether, and  I hope  that  the  peace  thus  established  may  long 
continue.  You  say  that  you  are  in  want  of  moccasons  ; 
we  will  endeavor  to  give  you  one  or  two  for  your  journey 
home.  That  is  all  I have  to  say.’ 

“ Herochche  then  apologized  for  his  unceremonious  en- 
trance into  the  village,  by  saying,  that  he  knew  it  was 
customary  to  send  forward  a runner,  on  such  an  occasion, 
and  he  should  have  done  so,  but  his  friend  the  Big  Knife, 
whom  he  had  previously  consulted  with  that  view,  told  him 
that  he  had  full  confidence  in  the  magnanimity  of  the  Otoes. 
Thus  the  ceremony  was  concluded,  and  peace  restored  be- 
tween the  two  nations.”* 

WAR  EXPEDITIONS. 

In  this  number  we  shall  give  a few  striking  instances  of 
the  dexterity  and  address,  as  well  as  the  devoted  courage* 
which  frequently  distinguish  their  conduct  in  war. 

“ In  the  year  1763,  Detroit,  containing  a British  garrison 
of  three  hundred  men,  commanded  by  Major  Gladwyn,  was 
besieged  by  a confederacy  of  Indian  tribes  under  Pontiac* 
an  Ottoway  chief,  who  displayed  such  a boldness  in  his  de- 
signs, such  skill  in  negotiation,  and  such  personal  courage 
in  war,  as  to  justify  us  in  considering  him  one  of  the  great- 


Long’s  Journal,  vol.  1,  p.  310. 


310 


APPENDIX. 


est  men  who  have  ever  appeared  among  the  Indian  tribes 
of  North  America.  He  was  the  decided  and  constant  ene- 
my of  the  British  government,  and  excelled  all  his  contempo- 
raries in  both  mental  and  bodily  vigor.  His  conspiracy  for 
making  himself  master  of  the  town  of  Detroit,  and  destroy- 
ing the  garrison,  although  frustrated,  is  a master-piece 
among  Indian  stratagems  ; and  his  victory  over  the  British 
troops  at  the  battle  of  Bloody  Bridge,  stands  unparalleled 
in  the  history  of  Indian  wars,  for  the  decision  and  steady 
courage  by  which  it  was,  in  an  open  fight,  achieved. 

“As,  at  the  time  above  mentioned,  every  appearance  of 
war  was  at  an  end,  and  the  Indians  seemed  to  be  on  a 
friendly  footing,  Pontiac  approached  Detroit  without  ex- 
citing any  suspicions  in  the  breast  of  the  governor,  or  the 
inhabitants.  He  encamped  at  a little  distance  from  it,  and 
let  the  commandant  know  that  he  was  come  to  trade ; and 
being  desirous  of  brightening  the  chain  of  peace  between 
the  English  and  his  nation,  desired  that  he  and  his  chiefs 
might  be  admitted  to  hold  a council  with  him.  The  gov- 
ernor, still  unsuspicious,  and  not  in  the  least  doubting  the 
sincerity  of  the  Indian,  granted  their  general’s  request,  and 
fixed  on  the  next  morning  for  their  reception. 

“ On  the  evening  of  that  day,  an  Indian  woman  who  had 
been  appointed  by  Major  Gladwyn  to  make  a pair  of  Indian 
shoes,. out  of  a curious  elkskin,  brought  them  home.  The 
major  was  so  pleased  with  them,  that,  intending  these  as  a 
present  for  a friend,  he  ordered  her  to  take  the  remainder 
back,  and  make  it  into  others  for  himself.  He  then  directed 
his  servant  to  pay  her  for  those  she  had  done,  and  dismissed 
her.  The  woman  went  to  the  door  that  led  to  the  street,  but 
no  further ; she  there  loitered  about  as  if  she  had  not  finished 
the  business  on  which  she  came.  A servant  at  length  ob- 
served her,  and  asked  her  why  she  staid  there  ? She  gave 
him,  however,  no  answer. 

“ Some  short  time  after,  the  governor  himself  saw  her, 
and  inquired  of  his  servant  what  occasioned  her  stay.  Not 
being  able  to  get  a satisfactory  answer,  he  ordered  the  wo- 
man to  be  called  in.  When  she  came  into  his  presence,  ho 
desired  to  know  what  was  the  reason  of  her  loitering  about, 
and  not  hastening  home  before  the  gates  were  shut,  that  she 
might  complete  in  due  time  the  work  he  had  given  her  to 
do.  She  told  him,  after  much  hesitation,  that  as  he  had 
* Jways  behaved  with  great  goodness  towards  her,  she  was 


APPENDIX. 


312 

unwilling  to  take  away  the  remainder  of  the  skin,  because 
he  put  so  great  a value  upon  it ; and  yet  had  not  been  able 
to  prevail  upon  herself  to  tell  him  so.  He  then  asked  her 
why  she  was  more  reluctant  to  do  so  now  than  she  had 
been  when  she  made  the  former  pair.  With  increased  re- 
luctance she  answered,  that  she  should  never  be  able  to 
bring  them  back. 

“ His  curiosity  was  now  excited,  he  insisted  on  her  dis- 
closing the  secret  that  seemed  to  be  struggling  in  her  bosom 
for  utterance.  At  last,  on  receiving  a promise  that  the  in- 
telligence she  was  about  to  give  him  should  not  turn  to  her 
prejudice,  and  that  if  it  appeared  to  be  beneficial  she  should 
be  rewarded  for  it,  she  informed  him,  that  at  the  council  to 
be  held  with  the  Indians  the  following  day,  Pontiac  and  his 
chiefs  intended  to  murder  him ; and,  after  having  massacred 
the  garrison  and  inhabitants,  to  plunder  the  town.  Tha 
for  this  purpose,  all  the  chiefs  who  were  to  be  admitted  ir 
to  the  council  room  had  cut  their  guns  short,  so  that  the  v 
could  conceal  them  under  their  blankets  ; with  which  c.  n 
a signal  given  by  their  general,  on  delivering  the  belt,  the  t 
were  all  to  rise  up,  and  instantly  to  fire  on  him  and  his  attenc. 
ants.  Having  effected  this,  they  were  immediately  to  rush 
into  the  town,  where  they  would  find  themselves  supported 
bv  a great  number  of  their  warriors,  that  were  to  come  into 
it  during  the  sitting  of  the  council  under  the  pretence  of 
trading,  but  privately  armed  in  the  same  manner.  Having 
gained  from  the  woman  every  necessary  particular  relative 
to  the  plot,  and  also  the  means  by  which  she  acquired  a 
knowledge  of  them,  he  dismissed  her  with  injunctions  of 
secrecy,  and  a promise  of  fulfilling  on  his  part  with  punc- 
tuality the  engagements  he  had  entered  into. 

“ The  intelligence  the  governor  had  just  received  gave 
him  great  uneasiness ; and  he  immediately  consulted  the  offi- 
cer who  was  next  him  in  command  on  the  subject.  But  this 
gentleman,  considering  the  information  as  a story  invented 
for  some  artful  purpose,  advised  him  to  pay  no  attention  to 
it.  This  conclusion,  however,  had  happily,  no  weight  with 
him.  He  thought  it  prudent  to  conclude  it  to  be  true,  till 
he  was  convinced  that  it  was  not  so  ; and  therefore,  without 
revealing  his  suspicions  to  any  other  person,  he  took  every 
Heedful  precaution  that  the  time  would  admit  of.  He  walk- 
ed around  the  fort  the  whole  night,  and  saw  himself,  that 


31* 


APPENDIX. 


•every  sentinel  was  upon  duty,  and  every  weapon  of  defence 
ki  proper  order. 

“As  he  traversed  the  ramparts  that  lay  nearest  to  the  Indi- 
an camp,  he  heard  them  in  high  festivity,  and  little  imagin- 
ing that  their  plot  was  discovered,  probably  pleasing  them- 
selves with  the  anticipation  of  their  success.  As  soon  as 
the  morning  dawned,  he  ordered  all  the  garrison  under  arms, 
and  then  imparting  his  apprehension  to  a few  of  the  prin- 
cipal officers,  gave  them  such  directions  as  he  thought  ne- 
cessary. At  the  same  time  he  sent  round  to  all  the  traders, 
to  inform  them,  that  as  it  was  expected  a great  number  of 
Indians  would  enter  the  town  that  day,  who  might  be  in- 
clined to  plunder,  he  desired  they  would  have  their  arms 
ready,  and  repel  any  attempt  of  that  kind. 

“ About  ten  o’clock,  Pontiac  and  his  chiefs  arrived,  and 
were  conducted  to  the  council  chamber,  where  the  governoi 
and  his  principal  officers,  each  with  pistols  in  his  belt, 
awaited  his  arrival.  As  the  Indians  passed  on,  they  could 
not  help  observing  that  a greater  number  of  troops  than 
usual  were  drawn  up  on  the  parade,  or  marching  about. 
No  sooner  were  they  entered  and  seated  on  the  skins  pre- 
pared for  them,  than  Pontiac  asked  the  governor,  on  what 
occasion  his  young  men,  meaning  the  soldiers,  were  thus 
drawn  up  and  parading  the  streets  ? He  received  for  an- 
swer, that  it  was  only  intended  to  keep  them  perfect  in 
their  exercise. 

“ The  Indian  chief-warrior  now  began  his  speech,  which 
contained  the  strongest  professions  of  friendship  and  good 
will,  towards  the  English  : and  when  he  came  to  the  deliv- 
ery of  the  belt  of  wampum,  the  particular  mode  of  which, 
according  to  the  woman’s  information,  was  to  be  the  signal 
for  the  chiefs  to  fire,  the  governor  and  all  his  attendants 
drew  their  swords  half  way  out  of  their  scabbards  ; and  the 
soldiers  at  the  same  instant  made  a clattering  with  theix 
arms  before  the  doors,  which  had  been  purposely  left  open. 
Pontiac,  though  one  of  the  bravest  of  men,  immediately 
turned  pale  and  trembled  ; and  instead  of  giving  the  belt  in 
the  manner  proposed,  delivered  it  according  to  the  usual 
way.  His  chiefs,  who  had  impatiently  expected  the  sig- 
nal,  looked  at  each  other  with  astonishment,  but  continued 
quiet,  waiting  the  result. 

“ The  governor,  in  his  turn,  made  a speech,  but  instead 
^rf  thanking  the  great  warrior  for  the  professions  of  friend- 


APPENDIX. 


313 

ship  he  had  just  uttered,  he  accused  him  of  being  a traitor. 
He  told  him  that  the  English,  who  knew  every  thing,  were 
convinced  of  his  treachery  and  villainous  designs ; and  a s 
a proof  that  they  were  acquainted  with  his  most  secret 
thoughts  and  intentions,  he  stepped  towards  an  Indian  chief 
that  sat  nearest  to  him,  and  drawing  aside  the  blanket,  dis- 
covered the  shortened  firelock.  This  entirely  disconcerted 
the  Indians , and  frustrated  then?  design. 

“ He  then  continued  to  tell  them,  that  as  he  had  given 
his  word  at  the  time  they  desired  an  audience,  that  their 
persons  should  be  safe,  he  would  hold  his  promise  inviola- 
ble, though  they  so  little  deserved  it.  However,  he  desired 
them  to  make  the  best  of  their  way  out  of  the  fort,  lest 
his  young  men,  on  being  acquainted  with  their  treacherous 
purposes,  should  cut  every  one  of  them  to  pieces. 

“ Pontiac  endeavored  to  contradict  the  accusation,  and 
to  make  excuses  for  his  suspicious  conduct ; but  the  gov- 
ernor, satisfied  of  the  falsity  of  his  protestations,  would 
not  listen  to  him.  The  Indians  immediately  left  the  fort ; 
but  instead  of  being  sensible  of  the  governor’s  generous 
behavior,  they  threw  off  the  mask,  and  the  next  day  made 
a regular  attack  upon  it.” 

Major  Gladwyn  has  not  escaped  censure  for  this  mista- 
ken lenity : for  probably  had  he  kept  a few  of  the  princi- 
pal chiefs  prisoners,  whilst  he  had  them  in  his  power,  he 
might  have  been  able  to  have  brought  the  whole  confede- 
racy to  terms,  and  prevented  a war.  But  he  atoned  for 
his  oversight,  by  the  gallant  defence  he  made  for  more 
than  a year,  amidst  a variety  of  discouragements. 

“During  that  period  some  very  smart  skirmishes  hap- 
pened between  the  besiegers  and  garrison,  of  which  the 
following  was  the  principal  and  most  bloody.  Captain 
Delzel,  a brave  officer,  prevailed  on  the  governor  to  give 
him  the  command  of  about  two  hundred  men,  and  to  per- 
mit him  to  attack  the  enemy’s  camp.  This  being  complied 
with,  he  sallied  from  the  town  before  daybreak ; but  Pon- 
tiac, receiving  from  some  of  his  swift-footed  warriors,  who 
were  constantly  employed  in  watching  the  motions  of  the 
garrison,  timely  intelligence  of  their  design,  collected  the 
choicest  of  his  troops,  and  met  the  detachment  at  some  dis- 
tance from  his  camp,  near  a place  since  called  Bloody 
Bridge.  As  the  Indians  were  vastly  superior  in  number, 
to  Captain  Delzel’s  party,  he  was  soon  overpowered  and 


314 


APPENDIX. 


driven  back.  Being  now  nearly  surrounded,  he  made  a 
vigorous  effort  to  regain  the  bridge  he  had  just  crossed,  by 
which  alone  he  could  find  a retreat : but  in  doing  this  he 
lost  his  life,  and  many  of  his  men  fell  with  him.  Howev- 
er, Major  Rogers,  the  second  in  command,  assisted  by  Lieu- 
tenant Braharn,  found  means  to  draw  off  the  shattered  re- 
mains of  their  little  army,  and  conducted  them  into  the 
fort. 

44  Then  considerably  reduced,  it  was  with  difficulty  the 
major  could  defend  the  town,  notwithstanding  which,  he 
held  out  against  the  Indians  till  he  was  relieved;  as  after 
this  they  made  but  few  attacks  upon  the  place,  and  only 
continued  to  blockade  it.  The  Gladwyn  schooner  arrived 
about  this  time  near  the  town,  with  a reinforcement  and 
necessary  supplies.  But  before  this  vessel  could  reach  the 
place  of  its  destination,  it  was  most  vigorously  attacked  by 
a detachment  from  Pontiac’s  army.  Tire  Indians  surround- 
ed it  in  their  canoes,  and  made  great  havoc  among  the  crew. 

44  At  length,  the  captain  of  the  schooner,  with  a consider- 
able number  of  his  crew,  being  killed,  and  the  savages  be- 
ginning to  climb  up  the  sides  from  every  quarter,  the  lieu- 
tenant being  determined  that  the  stores  should  not  fall  into 
the  enemy’s  hands,  and  seeing  no  alternative,  ordered  the 
gunner  to  set  fire  to  the  powder  room  and  blow  the  ship  up. 
This  order  was  on  the  point  of  being  executed,  when  a 
chief  of  the  Hurons  who  understood  the  English  language, 
gave  out  to  his  friends  the  intention  of  the  commander. 
On  receiving  this  intelligence*  the  Indians  hurried  down 
the  sides  of  the  ship  with  the  greatest  precipitation  and  got 
as  far  from  it  as  possible  ; while  the  commander  immedi- 
ately took  advantage  of  their  consternation,  and  arrived 
without  any  further  obstruction  at  the  town. 

44  This  seasonable  supply  gave  the  garrison  fresh  spirits  : 
and  Pontiac,  being  now  convinced  that  it  would  not  be  in 
his  power  to  reduce  the  place,  proposed,  an  accommodation. 
The  governor,  wishing  much  to  getridof  such  troublesome 
enemies,  listened  to  his  proposals,  and  having  procured  ad- 
vantageous terms,  agreed  to  a peace.”* 

The  massacre  of  the  garrison  of  Michilimackinac,  which 
occurred  also  in  the  year  1763,  while  it  exhibits  one  of  the 


• I have  extracted  this  narrative  of  Pontiac’s  attempt  on  Detroit„froa 
Mr.  Schoolcraft,  who  takes  it  from.  Carver’s  Travels. 


APPENDIX. 


315 

most  shocking  instances  of  Indian  barbarity,  is  at  the  same 
time  a striking  proof  of  the  sagacity  and  dissimulation  of 
the  Indian  character.  It  appears  from  the  very  interesting 
account  given  of  this  transaction  by  Henry,  who  was  an 
eye  witness,  “That  the  Indians  were  in  the  habit  of  play- 
ing at  a game  called  Bag-gat-iway,  which  is  played  with  a 
ball  and  a bat  on  the  principles  of  our  foot  ball,  and  decided 
by  one  of  the  party’s  heaving  the  ball  beyond  the  goal  of 
their  adversaries.  The  king’s  birth  day,  the  4th  of  June, 
having  arrived,  the  Sacs  and  Chippeways  who  wrere  en- 
camped in  great  numbers  around  the  fort,  turned  out  upon 
the  green,  to  play  at  this  game  for  a high  wager,  and  at- 
tracted a number  of  the  garrison  and  traders  to  witness  the 
sport.  The  game  of  bag-gat-iway  is  necessarily  attended 
with  much  violence  and  noise.  In  the  ardor  of  contest,  the 
ball,  if  it  cannot  be  thrown  to  the  goal  desired,  is  struck  in 
any  direction  by  which  it  can  be  diverted  from  that  designed 
by  the  adversary. 

At  such  a moment,  therefore,  nothing  could  be  less  liable 
to  excite  premature  alarm,  than  that  the  ball  should  be 
tossed  over  the  pickets  of  the  fort,  nor,  having  fallen  there, 
it  should  be  followed  on  the  instant  by  all  engaged  in  the 
game,  as  wrell  the  one  party  as  the  other,  all  eager,  all  strug- 
gling, all  shouting,  in  the  unrestrained  pursuit  of  a rude 
athletic  exercise : nothing  therefore  could  be  more  happily 
devised,  under  the  circumstances,  than  a stratagem  like  this ; 
and  it  was  in  fact  the  stratagem  which  the  Indians  employ- 
ed to  obtain  possession  of  the  fort,  and  by  which  they  w^ere 
enabled  to  slaughter  and  subdue  its  garrison,  and  such  of 
the  other  inhabitants  as  they  pleased.  To  be  still  more 
certain  of  success,  they  had  prevailed  on  as  many  as  they 
could,  by  a pretext  the  least  liable  to  suspicion,  to  come 
voluntarily  without  the  pickets  ; and  particularly  the  com 
mandant  and  garrison  themselves.  The  Indians,. after  but 
ehering  the  garrison,  burnt  down  the  fort.” 


THE  END. 


